TYBEE BEACHCOMBER | NOV 2018 35
I am not a green thumb. Never have been and I know it. I kill the
most unkillable plants. Not intentionally, it just happens. I forget to
water them or forget to talk to them or forget that they exist. This
has been a life-long problem of mine with zero effort on my part
to change my ways, so you can imagine my horror when Nell gave
me a Christmas cactus a few years ago. I was in charge of a life!
I named him Ignacio and he is now a mere shadow of his former
self, but still stubbornly clinging to life (bless his heart).
Although I am thrilled to report that Ignacio is still alive, he is
clearly not thrilled with his existence. He lost several limbs and
hasn’t bloomed for two years. In my defense, however, it wasn’t
from my lack of care (yes it was) as I called in all the professionals
I knew (Haus Frau) to discover exactly why Ignacio has what is
medically termed as a “Failure to Thrive.” I was given a variety
of advice from sun, to over water, under water, less Chatty Cathy,
more petting and classical music. Needless to say, Ignacio has
been holding on by one sturdy stem for over 10 months now and I
see him dead by the end of this year.
Not one to be deterred by this lack of my ability to make things
around me Fail to Thrive, I went to Ace Hardware to find something
new to torture and kill. I had recently acquired a bad ass planter
in the shape of an Easter Island stone head and not aware at
the time that I seriously under analyzed the size of this planter.
I was on a mission: Find an unkillable plant. My requirements: I
want a treeish green thing. Leafy. Tallish. Happy. Had to be big to
accommodate my planter from hell and had to survive on literally
60 watts from a light bulb that is turned on for approximately four
hours a day in a cave that is pitch dark the rest of the time. No
natural light and must be able to survive with limited water, but
maximum Chatty Cathy and leaf fondling every time I walk by.
Ed, my new plant guru at Ace Hardware on Wilmington, is the
Plant Whisperer. I told him what I wanted and further explained
that I would more than likely kill whatever he gave me. I don’t
think he was pleased that he was delivering one of his babies to
its death, but I had $35 and I wanted a damn plant. We strolled the
aisles and we found the perfect victim … er … new addition to
the household: A Schefflera Plant. It matched all my requirements,
looked super happy in the backyard of ACE and seemed delighted
to get into my car. I was instantly enamored and named her
“Fraulein.”
Well, Fraulein arrived home two hours later (errands you know)
with two huge sunburnt (well technically crispy fried) leaves,
wilting like mad, super unhappy and if Fraulein could have
screamed at me, I do believe she would have. I shoved her in the
corner and walked away, already feeling bad about myself.
The corner I shoved her in is right by the bathroom and every
time I walked by her, I would speak with her and give her comfort
and inspiration in her 60 watts of energy. Two weeks later, she
was still in her original pot and a spider had moved in. Leaves
were beginning to flake off and I knew I had to do something. I
planted her in Big Blue, the aforementioned Easter statue, and
started a ritual of petting her and telling her about my day.
Day by day she appeared to get more and more accustomed
to her horrible reality and even sprouted two new sprouts: Big
Frau and Little Frau – both of which appear extremely green and
thrilled with their scene. However, Fraulein herself has continued
to lose her big leaves I bought her with and I have reverted to
not making eye contact with her. I think she knows this as three
weeks later, she is becoming Ignacio (although they are not in the
same room of the house). I believe they communicate through
telekinesis when I’m at work, which is super disturbing because I
know they are talking about me. Hmmm.
I can only do what I can do with my limited capabilities, so let’s
hope that Fraulein is as sturdy as her name. In the meantime, I’m
thinking about getting a puppy ….
Diary
of a Black
Thumb
By Alaina Loughridge