It's been a family joke for a long time that I have a horribly brown thumb. My mother practically drips chlorophyl, she's so good with plants, but I once killed an air fern.

At my last job, I decided to have plants at my desk, but I didn't want it to become a collection of terracotta tombs. Ergo, I tried succulents-- cute little ones, in darling tiny pots. I bought one each time we visited Longwood Gardens as a special treat. Mr. M told his dad, and then I got a cutting from one of his, too. I've lost a couple, and they lose leaves from time to time, (and occasionally a cat will fling one off the windowsill) but for the most part they're holding up well.

A couple of weeks ago, I noticed that a fallen leaf had sprouted other, tiny leaves! This morning I transplanted it, and indeed, there's a long, healthy-looking root!

To go from killing all plants to being able to make a cutting-- impressive! (Erm... even if it was accidental.) Maybe eventually Mr. M will let me get a dog...

1 comment:

  1. Wow! I have at least a beige thumb. . . .


"So keep fightin' for freedom and justice, beloveds, but don't you forget to have fun doin' it. Lord, let your laughter ring forth. Be outrageous, ridicule the fraidy-cats, rejoice in all the oddities that freedom can produce. And when you get through kickin' ass and celebratin' the sheer joy of a good fight, be sure to tell those who come after how much fun it was."
-Saint Molly Ivins