Let's see now...so where were we? Or should we say - where are we now? Whatever.
Here is the day-by-day progress report, although readers might find it repetitive. Got up at 7 a.m. on Saturday, April 13, to bring in the paper but couldn't avoid a check on what I hoped was progress to report. Uttered a lot of " hmmmmm's" and "uh-huh's"...and then changed the water. Why you may well ask, did I change the water? Seemed like a good idea. What happens, say, if lettuce prefers pure, clean, tap water as an incentive for growth? Didn't want to take any chances so 'L' - that's what I've named the lettuce to personalize our relationship - now has daily changes of water.
Sun. April 14: Actually, toying with the idea of adding photographic images of my stump with roots immersed in an inch of water in a plastic container, to the blog page. After further thought, took three photos of the aforementioned lettuce from different angles and my findings are that it looked the same from all angles and really didn't merit photos - yet.
Mon. April 15: Not sure if it's wishful thinking but just may have detected little white shoots growing on the side of the stump not immersed in water. Perhaps they could have been there all along and went unnoticed...however I'm believing they are a positive sign that things may be progressing. After glancing into the container, my husband asked me when am I going to throw L away.
"It's growing! Can't you tell?" I reacted, rushing over to point out what I believe to be teeny shoots.
"Looks like it's turning brown," he responded. "Time to throw it out. It's gonna smell."
"The roots look very healthy," I said, swishing them around in a circular motion with my fore-finger. "We have to give them a chance to send a message to the lettuce stump to grow."
"Here's my message to them. 'Grow or out you go'!
There is hope in my heart that tomorrow will be the turning point. Visions of soft green lettuce leaves in a delicious bowl of salad inspire me to keep going. Tomorrow L will receive a musical treat in the form of Vivaldi's Four Seasons, "Spring." Let's just hope the other plants don't get jealous.
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Monday, April 15, 2013
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Excuses don't count when it comes to hanging plants
Really, we never intended to be cruel to our hanging plants and now they’re paying us back. They can best be described in a state loitering between life and death, more to the latter as of today. In the end, it really doesn’t matter how honourable our intentions were because plants aren’t interested in excuses.
Every May we visit the various garden centers in search of a species that will stand out visually, add pizazz to our condo balcony, is easy to care for and are tough plants. Is that a lot to ask? The latter is important since we live near a river where it’s always windy, which in turn dries out the soil necessitating constant replenishment of water.
It was instant love-at-first-sight when we spotted calibrachoa, a relatively new species that resembles mini petunias overflowing with branches of coloured blooms, growing in a plastic hanging container. The mixture of bright yellow and orange flowers stole our hearts and judgement, obviously. Given the lush but overflowing state of the greenery and the size of the pot, we ignored the warning signs that over-crowding could be a problem. More flowers equals flashier showing, we assumed, plus the garden center clerk assured us the specie was easy to grow. Good enough reason for purchase, we decided.
Visually, they provided a visually colourful sight swaying in the wind but watering the plant was difficult, since it was almost impossible to know when or if the water was reaching the roots. To ensure that they were being adequately hydrated they received a half-litre of water, a lot of which seeped out the planter holes.
Rarely do we take a summer vacation that takes us away for more than a few days but this year was an exception. This meant that the plants were on their own for a week at the mercy of Mother Nature for liquid hydration. In retrospect we could have asked a neighbour to plant sit or if our plants could join someone else's plants on their balcony, but we didn’t. We believed that our plants would take care of themselves in our absence. Silly us! We took them down and placed near the balcony railing dependent upon natural conditions to provide a balance of sun and rain. Having watered the plants well and giving them a pep talk along with apologies, we left assuming they would be alive upon our return. Again, silly us.
It never occurred to us that the plants would or could – well – die or would give up in a mere week without water. Actually, they should have lasted longer but given their crowded state, their root systems most likely were packed too tightly together. Personally, I blame the seed company for over-crowding. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it! Much to our dismay, we returned to a brown-branched, somewhat shrivelled up and crispy dried out plant. What was once a colourful, lush and vibrant orange/yellow plant was now a collection of brown shrivelled-up branches of crispy nothing-ness. Rather than toss them out immediately, instead they were given a liberal watering and decided to monitor the situation for a week after which a decision would have to be made as to their viability. On the fourth day, one of the plants started turning green at the tips of the branches and suddenly some flowers appeared, leading us to believe that a miraculous re-birth was imminent – and still more flowers. Unfortunately, it was a short lived omen and the green has turned to a deathly pallor of grey-ish/brown-ish. Such teases, our plants!
It’s obvious, at least to me that once new plant raisers and owners take over from garden centers to become the care givers to plants, we become responsible for their well being. Plants do not and will not stand for excuses and neither do they tolerate long-ish absences. Unless there’s another re-birth, tonight we’ll be bidding adieu to the calibrachoa duo on the river bank, at sunset. It will be a short ceremony to match our short relationship. It’s the least we could do.
Every May we visit the various garden centers in search of a species that will stand out visually, add pizazz to our condo balcony, is easy to care for and are tough plants. Is that a lot to ask? The latter is important since we live near a river where it’s always windy, which in turn dries out the soil necessitating constant replenishment of water.
It was instant love-at-first-sight when we spotted calibrachoa, a relatively new species that resembles mini petunias overflowing with branches of coloured blooms, growing in a plastic hanging container. The mixture of bright yellow and orange flowers stole our hearts and judgement, obviously. Given the lush but overflowing state of the greenery and the size of the pot, we ignored the warning signs that over-crowding could be a problem. More flowers equals flashier showing, we assumed, plus the garden center clerk assured us the specie was easy to grow. Good enough reason for purchase, we decided.
Visually, they provided a visually colourful sight swaying in the wind but watering the plant was difficult, since it was almost impossible to know when or if the water was reaching the roots. To ensure that they were being adequately hydrated they received a half-litre of water, a lot of which seeped out the planter holes.
Rarely do we take a summer vacation that takes us away for more than a few days but this year was an exception. This meant that the plants were on their own for a week at the mercy of Mother Nature for liquid hydration. In retrospect we could have asked a neighbour to plant sit or if our plants could join someone else's plants on their balcony, but we didn’t. We believed that our plants would take care of themselves in our absence. Silly us! We took them down and placed near the balcony railing dependent upon natural conditions to provide a balance of sun and rain. Having watered the plants well and giving them a pep talk along with apologies, we left assuming they would be alive upon our return. Again, silly us.
It never occurred to us that the plants would or could – well – die or would give up in a mere week without water. Actually, they should have lasted longer but given their crowded state, their root systems most likely were packed too tightly together. Personally, I blame the seed company for over-crowding. That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it! Much to our dismay, we returned to a brown-branched, somewhat shrivelled up and crispy dried out plant. What was once a colourful, lush and vibrant orange/yellow plant was now a collection of brown shrivelled-up branches of crispy nothing-ness. Rather than toss them out immediately, instead they were given a liberal watering and decided to monitor the situation for a week after which a decision would have to be made as to their viability. On the fourth day, one of the plants started turning green at the tips of the branches and suddenly some flowers appeared, leading us to believe that a miraculous re-birth was imminent – and still more flowers. Unfortunately, it was a short lived omen and the green has turned to a deathly pallor of grey-ish/brown-ish. Such teases, our plants!
It’s obvious, at least to me that once new plant raisers and owners take over from garden centers to become the care givers to plants, we become responsible for their well being. Plants do not and will not stand for excuses and neither do they tolerate long-ish absences. Unless there’s another re-birth, tonight we’ll be bidding adieu to the calibrachoa duo on the river bank, at sunset. It will be a short ceremony to match our short relationship. It’s the least we could do.
Saturday, May 07, 2011
Once a gardener - always a gardener
In as much as a move to condo living is a welcome change Spring is the time of year that I miss my garden most. Normally, I would be joining the throngs of gardening enthusiasts at the garden centres stocking up on top soil and supplementing their gardening tool collection. It’s always surprising, at least to me, how people are willing to pay for – well – dirt in the desire to enhance their chances of a visually spectacular floral display and vegetable output. When you think about it, there is dirt virtually everywhere you look but gardeners have to have special dirt. Drop by any centre and an entire section is filled with bags of top soil of every type and purpose. Thinking back, adding top soil worked for all the gardeners in our neighbourhood but for whatever reason, disappeared for us with the first rain. There was also the reoccurring problem with grub attacks that didn’t help the situation. See what I mean? Once a gardener – always a gardener.
The question as to how we enjoy condo living is inevitably followed by, “do you miss your garden?” My stock answer is yes and no. Definitely miss the experience of getting down and dirty with my hands in the soil and no to having to mow the grass. Never told anyone until now but dandelions supplemented the sparse blades of grass and gave the lawn the green shade it wouldn’t have otherwise had.
Conversations with friends and acquaintances who are gardening enthusiasts enjoy regaling me with their plans for the coming season. I
“So how do you like condo living?” actually means, how could you give up your garden followed by, “we could never give up our house. We love growing things.”
Hey! I always did and still do. The change is in the way to grow things. Actually, can’t really call it gardening any more. We’re plant raising now. Upon moving into our condo in early summer four years ago, we purchased two Grecian-looking urns that were filled to over-flowing with a wide variety of annuals. The end result was nice and in an attempt to be organized, we even kept the plastic information sticks as a reminder which plants flourished. Unfortunately, the following year they were nowhere to be found and it’s still guess work. Some things don’t change.
Have to admit, though, I do still love looking at the seed displays and mentally select the species that appeal to me. There is the occasional conversation with strangers at the displays but the discussion stops at one point when the talk turns to flower beds and veggies. Seems that container gardening doesn’t make it with some people. It’s also at this time of the year that I experience pangs of loneliness for my two surviving rose bushes, a hybrid tea and a floribunda, whose life force always hovered between life and death. In a good year, they produced two roses each. Wonder if they’re still in the land of the living or tease the new owners into believing they’re worth the trouble. Reality returns with the quick reminder of the frequent visits to the composter and the plethora of plants that received last rites.
In the choosing flowers, we still have differing views on the selection process for the window boxes and urns, centering on species and color schemes. I like to stick to two main colors while my husband prefers a wide variety of...everything. The truth is that he’s color-blind and is in denial.
“Nature doesn’t pick color schemes,” he will assert in defence of his choices, “so why should we?”
Last year, though, we did agree to stick to three main shades. Three is better than eight – let’s leave it at that. At present we’re in discussions focusing on the cultivation of tomatoes in a pot and whether or not there is a space for them, physically and aesthetically. Once that issue is settled, I’ll broach the subject of herbs. The barbeque still needs a corner.
(Paintings courtesy of yours truly, are available for purchase)
The question as to how we enjoy condo living is inevitably followed by, “do you miss your garden?” My stock answer is yes and no. Definitely miss the experience of getting down and dirty with my hands in the soil and no to having to mow the grass. Never told anyone until now but dandelions supplemented the sparse blades of grass and gave the lawn the green shade it wouldn’t have otherwise had.
Conversations with friends and acquaintances who are gardening enthusiasts enjoy regaling me with their plans for the coming season. I
“So how do you like condo living?” actually means, how could you give up your garden followed by, “we could never give up our house. We love growing things.”
Hey! I always did and still do. The change is in the way to grow things. Actually, can’t really call it gardening any more. We’re plant raising now. Upon moving into our condo in early summer four years ago, we purchased two Grecian-looking urns that were filled to over-flowing with a wide variety of annuals. The end result was nice and in an attempt to be organized, we even kept the plastic information sticks as a reminder which plants flourished. Unfortunately, the following year they were nowhere to be found and it’s still guess work. Some things don’t change.
Have to admit, though, I do still love looking at the seed displays and mentally select the species that appeal to me. There is the occasional conversation with strangers at the displays but the discussion stops at one point when the talk turns to flower beds and veggies. Seems that container gardening doesn’t make it with some people. It’s also at this time of the year that I experience pangs of loneliness for my two surviving rose bushes, a hybrid tea and a floribunda, whose life force always hovered between life and death. In a good year, they produced two roses each. Wonder if they’re still in the land of the living or tease the new owners into believing they’re worth the trouble. Reality returns with the quick reminder of the frequent visits to the composter and the plethora of plants that received last rites.
In the choosing flowers, we still have differing views on the selection process for the window boxes and urns, centering on species and color schemes. I like to stick to two main colors while my husband prefers a wide variety of...everything. The truth is that he’s color-blind and is in denial.
“Nature doesn’t pick color schemes,” he will assert in defence of his choices, “so why should we?”
Last year, though, we did agree to stick to three main shades. Three is better than eight – let’s leave it at that. At present we’re in discussions focusing on the cultivation of tomatoes in a pot and whether or not there is a space for them, physically and aesthetically. Once that issue is settled, I’ll broach the subject of herbs. The barbeque still needs a corner.
(Paintings courtesy of yours truly, are available for purchase)
Saturday, February 05, 2011
So what's your houseplant's sign?
Our houseplants – can't live with them and we certainly can't live without them. It occurred to me that perhaps the survival of houseplants could be (note the word "could") determined by the planets. It isn't such a far-fetched theory given many people believe their future is affected by the stars and planetary concurrences.
An acquaintance claims to buy houseplants for herself and others to match known personality traits of the new plant-owner-to-be at time of purchase. It's her theory (and it’s as good as any) that the longevity and subsequent fate of a new acquisition of the chlorophyll kind can be determined with the use of an astrological chart. There’s no real means in which to check this out since their longevity is in the hands of the fates for the most part. The best that can be achieved is to ascertain the position of the sun, the moon and planetary alignments in the hope that it's a good plant fit and that both will have a long and healthy relationship. Accent on the long.
Aries: Personality traits: original, pioneering, courageous and direct. A plant like apidistra will tolerate tough love. In other words, even if you go to Florida and forget to make watering arrangements, it'll probably forgive you.
Taurus: Personality traits: patient, reliable, enduring, stable, trustworthy, affectionate. People born under this sign are the type of owners who will care for their plant, as long as there's traces of green indicating life within. Consider a parlsey plant or perhaps a dandelion.
Gemini: Personality traits: intellectual, adaptable, versatile, witty, lively, amusing. They're among the type of plant raisers who take people for a plant tour of their home, regaling them with stories about life and death in the plant kingdom and all the latest new products on the market place. They would do well with a chia pet plant.
Cancer: Personality traits: kind, sensitive, nurturing, imaginative, patriotic. Cancer-ians tend to buy plants that can be shared with other plant lover. In fact they are known to bring a home grown plant as a gift, instead of store bought items. A Venus Flytrap could be an interesting conversation piece.
Leo: Personality traits: magnanimous, generous, creative, enthusiastic, dynamic. Leo or lion-type houseplant raisers, buy their plants to fit with their latest renovation project. They always make sure that the plant's leaves don't clash with the wall color, a decorating no-no. An orchid to go with the color scheme of the walls would be a good match.
Virgo: Personality traits: discriminating, analytical, practical, meticulous, modest, clean. Virgo types will glean every available morsal of information before embarking upon the purchase of a plant. They always re-pot outdoors because dirty earth on the floor is not allowable. Neither are dead plants, which can be problematic. A Zebra Plant with its exotic appearance could be a possibility.
Libra: Personality traits: charming, harmonious, suave, diplomatic, social and artistic. For Libra people it's the pot that's important, rather than the plant specie, and they'll go out of their way to purchase a designer pot, which they gladly show off to their friends and ignore the plant. A Sago Palm planted in a bought on sale pot would make it look like you paid a lot of green for it.
Scorpio: Personality traits: loyal, truthful, persistent, determined, deep. You can always count on these people to be the ideal plant sitters, when going on vacation. They take their job very seriously and will adopt discarded plants rather than see them left behind by moving companies.
An Air Plant that is relatively easy to grow anywhere is a nice gift to give when leaving your house plants with a Scorpio to go on an 'extended vacation.'
Sagittarius: Personality traits: jovial, optimistic, frank, scrupulous, sense of humor. Blessed with a sense of humor among other interesting traits, some Sagittariuns are known to communicate one-on-one with their plants, via mental telepathy. They also hear plants talking to each other. A Prayer Plant with leaves that are open during the day and close at night would be a good companion.
Capricorn: Personality traits: cautious, ambitious, prudent, disciplined. Capricornians won't buy a new houseplant unless they have a specific place in mind for the new acquisition. They tend to be on the unemotional side, and would never allow themselves to get emotionally involved with a plant. A cactus that is...there is a good option.
Aquarius: Personality traits: humanitarian, friendly, progressive, experimental. These people are the plant sharers of the world, and will take their plants with them on business trips. They have also been known to give away plants in lieu of tips. A herb plant would do them well on their next business trip.
Pices: Personality traits: compassionate, humble, sympathetic, intuitive. With their very sensitive natures, Pices people will go into mourning upon the demise of a favorite plant. Some have even been known to sport a green arm band, and a dried stem from the dearly departed.
A philodendron is toughie plant that abhors the compost pile.
And there you have our Eleanor's Astral House Plant Growing Guide to help you understand the true nature of those among us, who take plant raising very seriously. I mean it (wink-wink).
An acquaintance claims to buy houseplants for herself and others to match known personality traits of the new plant-owner-to-be at time of purchase. It's her theory (and it’s as good as any) that the longevity and subsequent fate of a new acquisition of the chlorophyll kind can be determined with the use of an astrological chart. There’s no real means in which to check this out since their longevity is in the hands of the fates for the most part. The best that can be achieved is to ascertain the position of the sun, the moon and planetary alignments in the hope that it's a good plant fit and that both will have a long and healthy relationship. Accent on the long.
Aries: Personality traits: original, pioneering, courageous and direct. A plant like apidistra will tolerate tough love. In other words, even if you go to Florida and forget to make watering arrangements, it'll probably forgive you.
Taurus: Personality traits: patient, reliable, enduring, stable, trustworthy, affectionate. People born under this sign are the type of owners who will care for their plant, as long as there's traces of green indicating life within. Consider a parlsey plant or perhaps a dandelion.
Gemini: Personality traits: intellectual, adaptable, versatile, witty, lively, amusing. They're among the type of plant raisers who take people for a plant tour of their home, regaling them with stories about life and death in the plant kingdom and all the latest new products on the market place. They would do well with a chia pet plant.
Cancer: Personality traits: kind, sensitive, nurturing, imaginative, patriotic. Cancer-ians tend to buy plants that can be shared with other plant lover. In fact they are known to bring a home grown plant as a gift, instead of store bought items. A Venus Flytrap could be an interesting conversation piece.
Leo: Personality traits: magnanimous, generous, creative, enthusiastic, dynamic. Leo or lion-type houseplant raisers, buy their plants to fit with their latest renovation project. They always make sure that the plant's leaves don't clash with the wall color, a decorating no-no. An orchid to go with the color scheme of the walls would be a good match.
Virgo: Personality traits: discriminating, analytical, practical, meticulous, modest, clean. Virgo types will glean every available morsal of information before embarking upon the purchase of a plant. They always re-pot outdoors because dirty earth on the floor is not allowable. Neither are dead plants, which can be problematic. A Zebra Plant with its exotic appearance could be a possibility.
Libra: Personality traits: charming, harmonious, suave, diplomatic, social and artistic. For Libra people it's the pot that's important, rather than the plant specie, and they'll go out of their way to purchase a designer pot, which they gladly show off to their friends and ignore the plant. A Sago Palm planted in a bought on sale pot would make it look like you paid a lot of green for it.
Scorpio: Personality traits: loyal, truthful, persistent, determined, deep. You can always count on these people to be the ideal plant sitters, when going on vacation. They take their job very seriously and will adopt discarded plants rather than see them left behind by moving companies.
An Air Plant that is relatively easy to grow anywhere is a nice gift to give when leaving your house plants with a Scorpio to go on an 'extended vacation.'
Sagittarius: Personality traits: jovial, optimistic, frank, scrupulous, sense of humor. Blessed with a sense of humor among other interesting traits, some Sagittariuns are known to communicate one-on-one with their plants, via mental telepathy. They also hear plants talking to each other. A Prayer Plant with leaves that are open during the day and close at night would be a good companion.
Capricorn: Personality traits: cautious, ambitious, prudent, disciplined. Capricornians won't buy a new houseplant unless they have a specific place in mind for the new acquisition. They tend to be on the unemotional side, and would never allow themselves to get emotionally involved with a plant. A cactus that is...there is a good option.
Aquarius: Personality traits: humanitarian, friendly, progressive, experimental. These people are the plant sharers of the world, and will take their plants with them on business trips. They have also been known to give away plants in lieu of tips. A herb plant would do them well on their next business trip.
Pices: Personality traits: compassionate, humble, sympathetic, intuitive. With their very sensitive natures, Pices people will go into mourning upon the demise of a favorite plant. Some have even been known to sport a green arm band, and a dried stem from the dearly departed.
A philodendron is toughie plant that abhors the compost pile.
And there you have our Eleanor's Astral House Plant Growing Guide to help you understand the true nature of those among us, who take plant raising very seriously. I mean it (wink-wink).
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Watch your thoughts - your plant could know!
Keep this between ourselves but I always believed that plants know what we're thinking. Now there's scientific evidence lending some validity to my belief based on some recent experiments conducted by scientists in Poland. New research shows that plants "can think and remember," according to a news story published recently. Of course! Any plant caregiver can attest to this. It's just so...logical.
Plants are able to "remember" and "react" to information contained in light, according to the researchers. In their experiment, scientists showed that light shone on one leaf caused the whole plant to respond. Duh! If you were snoozing or the plant equivalent and somebody opened up flashlight beam or beacon on you, you'd react too! Unlike humans plants can't scream out: "get that stupid light out'ta or off"a my leaves or else!" I mean, plants can't really do much in the way of defending themselves against - well - anything. One can only imagine plants horror upon sensing lawn trimming equipment approaching and knowing the ensuing carnage to follow. But I digress.
"We shone the light only on the bottom of the plant (the plant used was the arabidopsis specie) and we observed changes in the upper part," explained Professor Stanislaw Karpinski from the Warsaw University of Life Sciences in Poland, who led this research. "And the changes proceeded when the light was off... This was a complete surprise."
It shouldn't be. What else could a plant do in the way of a warning to the upper leaf level that light was approaching. The entire experiment must have had the same effect as a flashing lighthouse beacon.
Seems that plants have the capacity to relay a message to all the leaves that a dose of light is imminent. There is no mention in the piece the exact reason for conducting this type of experiment but perhaps humans have a lot in common with plants. In his previous work, Professor Karpinski found that chemical signals could be passed throughout whole plants - allowing them to respond to and survive changes and stresses in their environment.
As a plant caregiver to numerous plants over the years, some successfully and some not-so-successfully, I've always had this feeling that plants decide whether to thrive or even live based on their like or dislike for the person giving them their basic necessities. Caregivers that frequently neglect to give them water for example or place them in a drafty corner with little light, are reprimanded by the plants by dropping their leaves or a not dead-but-not-quite-alive appearance, conversely, people who talk to their plants with praise and feed them vitamins are rewarded with growth and new leaves. Then again, it's just my opinion for what it's worth and heaven knows I've had many plants that have gone-to-the-composter-in-the-sky over the years.
"This requires an appraisal of the situation and an appropriate response - that's a form of intelligence," concluded Professor Christine Foyer, a plant scientist from the University of Leeds.
Of course - I could have told them that.
Plants are able to "remember" and "react" to information contained in light, according to the researchers. In their experiment, scientists showed that light shone on one leaf caused the whole plant to respond. Duh! If you were snoozing or the plant equivalent and somebody opened up flashlight beam or beacon on you, you'd react too! Unlike humans plants can't scream out: "get that stupid light out'ta or off"a my leaves or else!" I mean, plants can't really do much in the way of defending themselves against - well - anything. One can only imagine plants horror upon sensing lawn trimming equipment approaching and knowing the ensuing carnage to follow. But I digress.
"We shone the light only on the bottom of the plant (the plant used was the arabidopsis specie) and we observed changes in the upper part," explained Professor Stanislaw Karpinski from the Warsaw University of Life Sciences in Poland, who led this research. "And the changes proceeded when the light was off... This was a complete surprise."
It shouldn't be. What else could a plant do in the way of a warning to the upper leaf level that light was approaching. The entire experiment must have had the same effect as a flashing lighthouse beacon.
Seems that plants have the capacity to relay a message to all the leaves that a dose of light is imminent. There is no mention in the piece the exact reason for conducting this type of experiment but perhaps humans have a lot in common with plants. In his previous work, Professor Karpinski found that chemical signals could be passed throughout whole plants - allowing them to respond to and survive changes and stresses in their environment.
As a plant caregiver to numerous plants over the years, some successfully and some not-so-successfully, I've always had this feeling that plants decide whether to thrive or even live based on their like or dislike for the person giving them their basic necessities. Caregivers that frequently neglect to give them water for example or place them in a drafty corner with little light, are reprimanded by the plants by dropping their leaves or a not dead-but-not-quite-alive appearance, conversely, people who talk to their plants with praise and feed them vitamins are rewarded with growth and new leaves. Then again, it's just my opinion for what it's worth and heaven knows I've had many plants that have gone-to-the-composter-in-the-sky over the years.
"This requires an appraisal of the situation and an appropriate response - that's a form of intelligence," concluded Professor Christine Foyer, a plant scientist from the University of Leeds.
Of course - I could have told them that.
Monday, August 27, 2007
FITTONIA LIVES...FOR NOW
My fittonia is still in the land of the living but no thanks to Walmart. If there's an underlying (or underlaying...whatever) message to this whole experience is don't trust Walmart's plastic information sticks because they lie. Perhaps 'lie' would be a little too strong. Let's say the sticks don't know anything about the plants in which they are inserted.
My stick as did all the other information sticks so that should say something in itself, instructed the care giver to "little light. Very little water." My interpretation of these words was to place it away from direct light and in a shady place and to water it only when the soil was dry. By now I should have developed a sense of humor when it comes to houseplant raising but the truth is - I haven't. Their eventual demise always gets to me.
It began with the shrivelling of the leaves and then their eventual fall followed by the stalks losing color. Before moving we had an intimate chat as to our relationship in that it would have a place in the new apartment as long as it showed signs that it wanted to live. Things didn't look promising for a while, however, desperation and a strong desire to assume the role of giver and extender of life, I gave it a healthy dose of water and placed it in front of a window that received diffused light. Behold and verily, verily - a miracle happened! Over the the next few days the plant's white veined leaves returned to their former healthy state and tiny buds appeared at the leaf junctions. To say I was jubilant - and shocked - but obviously pleased with this miracle (at least I like to think it was and is a miracle) would be an understatement.
So now fittonia receives the conventional houseplant care and appears to be loving it. Keep my experience in mind when Walmart has a sale on houseplants: information sticks are liars.
My stick as did all the other information sticks so that should say something in itself, instructed the care giver to "little light. Very little water." My interpretation of these words was to place it away from direct light and in a shady place and to water it only when the soil was dry. By now I should have developed a sense of humor when it comes to houseplant raising but the truth is - I haven't. Their eventual demise always gets to me.
It began with the shrivelling of the leaves and then their eventual fall followed by the stalks losing color. Before moving we had an intimate chat as to our relationship in that it would have a place in the new apartment as long as it showed signs that it wanted to live. Things didn't look promising for a while, however, desperation and a strong desire to assume the role of giver and extender of life, I gave it a healthy dose of water and placed it in front of a window that received diffused light. Behold and verily, verily - a miracle happened! Over the the next few days the plant's white veined leaves returned to their former healthy state and tiny buds appeared at the leaf junctions. To say I was jubilant - and shocked - but obviously pleased with this miracle (at least I like to think it was and is a miracle) would be an understatement.
So now fittonia receives the conventional houseplant care and appears to be loving it. Keep my experience in mind when Walmart has a sale on houseplants: information sticks are liars.
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