Killing Them Softly

Sunday….cloudy and/or rain is predicted….temps higher than they were earlier in the week…..but like old farts I write about the weather….at least I spare you my ailments….LOL

My daughter and my Better Half are both afflicted with a “brown thumb”…..meaning they cannot have house plants for it would be a death sentence…..but could there be a common reason for this condition?

For most of us, apartment dwellers and city types, houseplants are an admission of defeat. We look wistfully at plants in the supermarket—tendrils and fronds, furry flaps, spines and holes and soft neon shoots—persuading ourselves that they might bring us comfort. Is the particularly unusual leaf structure of a tapioca plant a substitute for the innocent frolicking of a small photogenic mammal? Hardly. Will a fiddle-leaf fig come when I call and lick my nose? Might a yucca plant, in time, support me during retirement? Possibly not. But the Zeitgeist’s many willing servants will try to convince you to go ahead anyway.

Photographers, journalists, and next-door neighbors claim that houseplants are the answer: babe magnet, hipster kryptonite, warmth-bringer, and reason to live, all in one. They insist that, unlike babies, partners, or pets, plants are easy; the usual sump of worry and responsibility, the constant questioning (“Do I want you? Do I like you? Will I kill you?”), doesn’t apply with peace lilies, cheese plants, and bonsai. Look at this photograph of a magnificent jungly something climbing toward a sunny skylight. “Oh, that old thing,” Jeffrey, an eco-architect, says. “I found it on a sidewalk. I water it once a year with craft beer, and that’s the lot.” Jeffrey is lying. He spends his days manicuring this photosynthesizing albatross, unable to get its mealybug problem out of his mind.

I hope my weekend posting has been informative as well as entertaining…..I do try to lighten the mood of the site a bit during the weekends….there is enough bad news….I want to make my reader smile…at least on the weekends…