When I moved into my newly purchased home a few years ago, my realtors gave me a moving-in present. It was a beautiful kind of canoe-shaped slate grey concrete pot full of artfully arranged succulents. It was actually from my old landlord’s new plant store!
I looked down at the beautiful little leafy things, and thought, “Poor bastards.”
Then I thought, “Maybe when they die, I’ll use this pot to keep fruit on the counter.”
It is a very pretty pot, very my aesthetic. And a similar colour of grey as my ‘green thumb’. I have purchased an assortment of plants over the years to no avail. I turned a wavy fern into a crispy-wavy fern. I caused a tiny cactus to explode into green goo. My lucky bamboo was not so lucky.
The only thing that has survived my care long-term is african violets.
That was, however, before I moved into a house with a full sun south-facing window. To my utter astonishment, the pot of succulents not only survived, but thrived to the point that I needed to split a bunch of them and repot sections.
It was very satisfying.
Next, I got an indestructible vine cutting from a friend, who assured me it would take whatever light or water I chose to provide it with.
From there my collection has grown…
And then covid happened, and my hobby became a larger part of my house… and grew some more…
It’s not a problem if no one is getting hurt by it. Right?!