Happy January folks!
Ever since the cold hit, and the heating went on, things have got seriously dismal for my bathroom plants. In part, I think, to the room warming up without an open window, and the soil drying out. WHOOPS.
They’ve all reacted differently, the plant pictured taking its final breath in Ep2 has turned grey, half the usually vibrant pink leaves of my stromanthe tristar have dried and curled up and don’t get me started on the ominous dark circles and state of my Calathea:
They’re all humidity loving plants experiencing a case of SADs and so is their owner. It bothers me to see their previously chirpy faces droop. It might be time to bring in the emergency birds (see Ep2). It’s not all bad, my first propagation experiment is a huge success:
I’m confident that’s how it’s supposed to look. Prreeetttyyy.
Currently, I’m gingerly touching the leaves of my green friends (well, those that still have any, ha ha!) during the weekly watering and asking them what’s wrong, which, sooner or later, is bound to inspire results.
Here’s where it really comes in handy to have a huge volume of plants and ongoing propagation, so that there’s always thriving and new life, even in the face of….mass suicide.
Every little beauty I planted in Ep1 is, against all odds, doing really well, more on that in a future episode (let’s give them a touch more time to die).
Like many of my obsessions, I approach it with initial gusto, buy a lot of books, speak with great enthusiasm and then get distracted by something silver and shiny in the distance. In this case, that shiny thing is DEFINITELY NOT Dawson’s Creek. Because there’s nothing sadder than a 33-year-old surrounded by wilting plants, crying at Joey not being able to afford Uni. If you got that reference, shame on you. If you didn’t, congratulations, you’re winning at life.
I’ll leave you with this uplifting image: