My grandmother could grow plants. Her specialty was African violets. She won ribbons for them at county fairs, and my grandfather made supports so that the leaves didn’t rest on the terra cotta. I remember the big bay window being filled with blooming violets.
Some traits seem to skip a generation. My mother tried with houseplants, and kept trying with houseplants. But it just wasn’t in her skill set. Maybe grandma was successful because her kids were grown and her husband was trained. Mom was raising kinds, running a house, making curtains and baking birthday cakes; and perhaps the plants weren’t as important.
I’ve always had plants around me. Decades ago I brought plants into my freshman dorm room. When I had my first apartment I was given a spider plant, and I’ve still got an incarnation of it almost forty years later. That’s a sobering thought.
My collection has grown as I’ve discovered new varieties, and my taste in plants has narrowed in some areas and expanded in others. With the internet and online ordering, plant collecting today is altogether different. We have access to plants I could never have imagined, and they can be delivered to your door. What a brave new world we live in.
I love having growing things around me, to propagate them, share them, figure out what they need, and have their insane diversity in my home. When the snow is blowing in winter, having blooming violets can save your day. When it’s warm and humid, watching the Hoyas vine can make it more bearable. When the days start to lengthen and your plants start pushing out new leaves it can give you hope. When the days start to shorten and the buds form on the schlumbergera there’s something to look forward to. Plants mark the seasons.
And there’s always something going on. Maybe that’s what I like the most: there’s always something going on.