It’s been a quiet week. I only bought one house plant this week. At this stage in my life, this counts as a success. A model of restraint. Which is why I felt I needed to address this week’s prompt for the Minimalist community right away and put the matter straight.
Do you think that one can own too many house plants?
Of course not, what sort of question is that? One can never have enough plants! Sure, there’s the question of space, but one can improvise. Maybe throw out some of the things you don’t really need, but house plants?
A few weeks ago I was at the supermarket, food shopping like a decent mother only throwing an innocent glance to the plants on display, when I happened to see a plant that was obviously not doing very well. Leaves going limp and drooping. It was also very cheap, practically begging me to buy it. First thing when I got home I repotted and watered it, and today it’s a beauty. (It’s the little one in the yellow pot if you want to know!)
(And yes, if I'm going shopping more often than I used to it's to see what new plants they have on display.)
What makes me so adamant in my opinion is that I’m fairly new to this. I had a few plants who rarely thrived, planted tulips or lilies in the spring, but not a real plant lover. I entered this new phase after my mother died and someone had to take care of her beloved plants. Many of the plants in the picture below were hers and I am quite happy they survived and even thrived. That was only the beginning however. In the past year I’ve bought quite a number of plants and most of them did well. Except for some gorgeous orchids I was very proud of, until I had the stupid idea to spray some mosquito repellent in their general direction. Seeing them wither and die was heartbreaking.
What sort of need does this plant-hoarding instinct point to? Deep down was the need to prove to my mother that I too could take care of house plants, but I won’t bore you with my mother complex.
As many women tend to embrace gardening later in life, I think taking care of a living thing responds to our natural nurturing instinct. My children are grown now and they don’t need much nurturing. My teenage son is constantly annoyed when I offer food or suggest he should wear a thick coat. He doesn’t need my mothering, but the plants do. (Even as I’m writing this I’m trying to remember if I should have watered them today.)
Maybe it has to do with still being relevant and useful as you grow old.
OK, back to the house plants now. Today was the first really awful autumn day around here. Chances are we might see some random snowflakes later tonight. You just don’t want to be outside in this weather. Yet, as I turned on the light early this afternoon I was just thinking to myself how wonderful it is I have all these beautiful plants in my room. If the room is bright and you’re surrounded by greenery you can almost trick your brain that the cold rain outside is not real. Not a good day to be walking in the park, but at least you have your own indoor garden.
Winter is not a good season for us humans, historically speaking. Before central heating and jetting off to some fancy ski resort, humans struggled to survive winter. Last week I got all the plants from the balcony inside as I was afraid they would not survive the cold temperatures at night. Now we’re all safe inside where we can survive the winter and thrive again come spring.
Seeing a plant grow new leaves is such a rewarding feeling. It means that life wins.
Life always wins. Even if sometimes a new orchid will replace one that had to die. Circle of life!
