I have been meaning to share this with you for a few years now. I imagine that you’re wondering why it’s taken me so long and why I’ve finally decided to give it up… I have to admit that it’s kind of personal, that’s part of the reason I haven’t written about it. The other reason is that, well, it may be kind of hard to believe. But I think you know me well enough by now to know that I wouldn’t lie to you and that it’s perfectly normal for me to have weirdness.
This story is about a plant. Which has since become three plants. If my dream comes true, that number could grow to a whole terrarium of plants.
“Where did this plant come from and why is it special?“ you may be asking by now.
When my father died in April 1998, many wonderful people sent beautiful flower arrangements and dish gardens, as people are wont to do when someone dies. A few days after the funeral, me mum was divvying up the plants to assorted family members. I became the owner of a beautiful and large dish garden.
The only surviving plant member from that dish garden has been with me for 11 years now. That fact in itself is incredible, considering that my thumbs are not only not green, but utterly colorless.
A couple of years ago I finally was successful at (what is the word?) Propagating? [ Whatever it is called when you make one plant into two and they are both alive and well.] The main reason I did this is because I become totally terrified at the idea of the plant ever dying and I figured if there were two instead of one, my chances of saving at least one of two were way better than if I only had one and killed it.
I lovingly refer to the plant(s) as “Dad’s Plant(s)…” for two reasons. One, if it weren’t for my dad, I wouldn’t have the thing(s), and two, because I have never found out what the real name of the plant is. It’s not because I can’t look it up or even that I’ve tried, because I haven’t. I’m weird that way, some things are just not important to me. Due to the amount of explaining that will be necessary for you to understand how important these plants have become to me, I will show you what they look like now and continue with the story another day. If you know what family this plant belongs to, feel free to tell me. I will be impressed. I’ll probly forget two minutes after I go away from this page, but I will be impressed, nonetheless.
Here they are, the original (top) and then he and his brother for your thoughtful consideration:
As we all know by now, I have absolutely no knowledge of plants and their genus. But they do look really cool, whatever they are.
Jeff: Is the plural (their) genus or genii? Pffft. More crap to look up… ; )
this is very cool, i don’t know the name either. i love gardening but i absolutely cannot remember all of the names.
Mom has a plant book. I started a search but it’s very tedious.
Hazel : Thanks! Tell me about it… I started a Google image search and got to page 27 when I got distracted by a beautiful garden owned by a woman in Rhode Island. I thought it was a more common plant!
What a wonderful way to carry on the loving memory of someone.
You are too cool!
M+: This is just the tip of the iceberg. Wait till you hear the rest of the story. You’ll see why I have no other choice but to carry it on…
I figured it would end up being a philodendron — almost impossible to kill. But this looks like it might actually take a little skill.
Very neat gesture, by the way. I have a neat story about a plant, but I’m trying to avoid making others’ blog comment areas about me.
Mark: Well thank you for recognizing that I’m not completely without talent! ; ) Actually, I think my dad is helping me keep it alive.
I think I read the plant story on your blog. The one Ben grew?
And hey, you’re more than welcome to talk about yourself here. Is someone giving you flack?? Send ‘em over, I’ll take care of it. ; )
Awww, more sweetness.
Hey You……You on facebook….I’m there now…..come see me
Joey: Hi! You need to send me a friend invite, I can’t find you unless you’re the anonymous-looking non-picture.