I’ll preface this article by saying I’m a chemist, not a botanist. I could grind up any plant and tell you what it’s made of, what it ate last, and what kind of soil it grew in, but my ability to keep flora alive is dicey at best. I promise you it’s not from a lack of trying, but the carnage speaks for itself. I swear I hear plants praying I won’t choose them as I browse the garden center. Undaunted, I keep trying with encouragement from my sister, who’s a plant whisperer. Although one day in Lowe’s, even she told me to step away from the succulent display. She wasn’t wrong to warn me off. I have a lot of chlorophyll on my hands.
Breaking News: I’m happy to report that I’ve had success with my current plants; success that is measured in branches overhanging their pots and root systems being nearly pot-bound. So with equal measures of trepidation and joy, I transplanted my survivors succulent and cactus friends into larger containers last weekend. It’s customary for me to wait until I have plants for a while before I repot them. It feels futile to transplant them if I’m just going to commit herbicide in a few weeks. Maybe I should have a more positive attitude about my plants’ future, but my track record is not to be ignored.
To gain confidence over the last year, I did what any curious soul does to learn stuff: I turned to YouTube. I’ve watched countless videos about succulent and cactus care. I chose those kinds of plants because they’re supposed to be easy to grow. Yeah, well anyway, I learned a lot from knowledgeable strangers. For instance, it turns out that my Christmas cactus is actually a Thanksgiving cactus. It has longer and sharper points on the leaves than the yuletide variety. That explains why it bloomed early. I thought I messed that up, too. Turns out it’s right on time! One point for me!
Encouraged by not being to blame for the early cactus blooming, I felt almost confident that I could do this! Now, almost 12 months later, my current batch of plants looks pretty good; some of them even self-propagated! That is decidedly a measure of success. I’ll try not to let it go to my head, but I am emboldened. Another point for me!
I’ve been reluctant to talk about my houseplants publicly because they rarely last long. It’s like back in the day deciding when to introduce a new boyfriend to the family. I had to figure out where he fell on the scale of serial killer to potential Nobel Laureate before I could bring him home to my Marine/police detective father and three older brothers. When this article posts to the socials, my plants and I will be Instagram official, so please allow me to introduce you to the gang.
You’ve already met the Thanksgiving cactus. She’s a beauty. One year in my possession and still thriving. I divided and repotted her into a chinoiserie planter and a tall, terra cotta pot. I swear mother and daughter are both smiling. Chalk up another point.
Residing in the right side of the oval, cement planter is the only succulent I can identify. It came in a labelled pot. It’s a zebra cactus, aka Haworthiopsis fasciata. Its spawn are now in an owl planter along with other successful iterations of other original plants. The zebra was a party favor from my niece’s bridal shower a few years ago. I’m deeply proud of myself for not killing that plant. Three years of plant ownership is impressive for me. I won’t lie. There have been casualties in that time period. Nonetheless, I’m up another point.
The area in which I truly excel at keeping houseplants is choosing containers that are interesting and/or whimsical on their own. Perhaps my subconscious wants them to look pretty when they are eventually empty, but today they’re full and functioning as intended. I’ll take that as another accomplishment and a fifth point on the scorecard.
Now that everyone is repotted and, dare I say, thriving, the next step is to get drainage saucers to replace the salad plates that I pressed into service. Gotta keep it classy. Then I’ll distribute them around the house. I’ll try not to be a helicopter plant owner. I’ll give them the space they need along with appropriate amounts of water and fertilizer. If I feel really adventurous, I’ll try my hand at propagating them from cuttings. Although, that’s an ambitious thought. I’m up 5-0 over the horticultural Grim Reaper. I think it’s best for my plant pals if I quit while I’m ahead.