All the plants have been brought inside, deloused, and made presentable for the house. This has taken the better part of a month, and as I watered them all this morning, I began wondering if I have a passion or if it's an obsession.
Some people probably think I lead a boring life. When asked what my hobbies are, I reply "reading, gardening, crocheting and counted cross stitch." Sounds like a boring old lady, huh? And to some it probably is. But I've learned to not even start down that road where I talk about life with my babies, because I've watched that interested look fade to incredulousness, and then the eyes begin to dart back and forth looking for an escape, any escape from this mad woman.
I don't even show all the plants I have anywhere. Ever.
This is most of them. I will say that. And you have the advantage of being able to close this window when you hit that point of overload.
When a leaf falls off and lies there on the dry soil long enough, chances are roots are going to begin to develop.
And then, before you know it, you have a nursery or three.
Okay, so I have an obsession. I think about them often, check them every day or so, know each one's name and likes and history and consider each one a child of sorts. I'm also constantly rearranging them. But with plants, I get to throw them away when they get out of hand. ;-D