1

The book is called How Not to Kill Your House Plant, and I think it would probably help many, perhaps even most people, learn how to properly take care of their plants. Less than half a dozen pages in, I realize I need a different type of manual. One that’s about just coming to terms with the deficiencies in your character that will result in most of the plants in your care meeting an untimely end, either from neglect or a combination of neglect and erratic overcompensation. 

This does not exist, as most plant care book authors start from the assumption that we should keep plants alive indefinitely. And that we want to do so.

But how about… we shift that paradigm? Just a little?

I like green things in my house. They’re pretty. They make me happy. They give my cat something to do. (While I’m very grateful to now live in a mouse-free house, my cat’s life is, unfortunately, significantly less fulfilling.)

I enjoy them. I water them fairly regularly, except when I forget. Two or three, sometimes even four, times a year I remember to fertilize them. Once a year — ok, that’s ambitious, let’s say once every couple of years — I repot the hardy ones that have thrived under my erratic care and now need a bigger pot.

And every once in a while, more often than I like, I murder them. Or, they choose to die, I don’t know, it’s not all me. Some of them do really well. Some of them just roll over and don’t even try.

And at some point, when they start to look really pathetic… and no longer make me happy… I have a little chat with them, thank them for their time with me, and consign them to the compost bucket.

This is not evil.

It’s house cleaning. And an emotional house cleaning of sorts.

And it’s ok.

It really is ok. 

2

I currently have 11 plants in my house. I don’t know the names of most of them. One is called a prayer plant. It’s the newest addition, just a few weeks old. It’s doing pretty well. It shares its pot with a single Hoya leaf. I’m not sure if that’s a good coupling — I just had no idea what to do with that single Hoya leaf, which refuses to both grow or die. I bought the prayer plant to replace one that gave up the ghost. Well, the cat helped — it was her favourite plant to knock off the shelf. It didn’t really matter where I put it or how I protected it. Disobedient Sinful Disaster found a way to knock it to the floor. It survived many falls. Until one day, it didn’t.

There’s also an ivy plant that I bought for $0.99 at a gas station or some such place. It was sickly and pathetic for the two years that I kept in the bathroom, back when I had a window in the bathroom. Now it’s away from moisture and not getting very much light either and it’s thriving. SinSin has zero interest in it, so it’s doing pretty well.

I’ve got another cutie that I’ve now had for five years that’s due for a new pot. The cat sometimes eats its leaves — I guess it’s not toxic to cats because she’s never puked or been unwell after her intermittent chewing sessions. Sometimes it looks great and sometimes it droops a little. Overall though, it looks pretty happy.

A friend gifted me a polka dot plant in a tiny pot at Christmas and the little bugger is thriving despite my repeated attempts to drown it. It needs a bigger pot now too — its will to live is strong. This one hangs out next to an African violet that was also a gift from a friend, more than a year ago now. I love African violets but I never baby them or repot them. I enjoy them until they die. I do make an effort to water them properly, but also… sometimes I don’t.

I’ve got a pot of rosemary that has ambitions of becoming a tree. Prognosis looks good. And a pot of mint and a pot of basil that I harvest regularly — probably overharvest. They look like they’ve got a few more weeks in them. I’ll replace them with new ones when my consumption outpaces their production.

And then there’s the spider plant (I think that’s its name). It’s also about five years old, grown from a cutting a friend shared with me. It’s had its ups and downs — I almost gave up on it on its last down and gave it a deadline. The motivation appears to have worked.

Finally, there are the two geraniums I’m attempting to overwinter. So far, so good. But if we don’t make it until the weather is warm enough to move them back out on the balcony, I’ll be ok.

(They won’t be, but I think they’re ok with not being ok, if you know what I mean.)

3

I don’t mean to be a heartless plant killer. It’s a priority thing, really. My intermittent attempts to learn how to take care of them better always fizzle. I’m not going to to keep a plant journal, or water different plants on different schedules. Once a week (sometimes less often), I check if they need water. I don’t bother to let the water sit overnight for the chlorine and fluoride and what not to evaporate. That’s the way it is. I don’t care about the plants enough to baby them. Cause they’re plants. Not my babies.

4

If you’ve got two green thumbs or if you’re a devoted plant parent — hats off to you. I admire you and your plants definitely look better than mine. 

But I’m ok with my lackadaisical approach to house flora. They’re here for me. Not the other way around.

5

xoxo

“Jane”