I really don't like houseplants. Oh sure, I have read countless articles on how bringing nature inside your home can make it feel warm and inviting. But unless you are a member of the Adams Clan, I hardly think having hanging baskets looking like this will make anyone feel comfortable in your home.
This was a wave petunia basket given to me by Ben's teachers.
Philodendron, ferns, ficus trees, peace lilies: Despite my best efforts I have tortured them all to this same slow (and sometimes not so slow) brown death where they become crumbling symbols of my insecurities on my abilities as a competent keeper of my home. ~shudder~
Of course, it never fails that each Mother's Day and Easter my children come home proudly bearing Styrofoam cups and painted terracotta pots stuffed with little green sprigs that have no idea of their inevitable demise. I try to place them in inconspicuous places around my home so my children don't notice their deterioration and eventual disappearance. I do usually save the painted terracotta pots and if anyone has any other suggestions as to what to do with these, I'd love to know.
So how surprised am I that this Mother's Day offering from Sunday School is still sitting on my kitchen counter. It wilts from time to time and I squirt it with water from the sink and it perks back up. I have no idea what it is. It had no flowers on it when I received it (unlike it's pretty preschool counterpart which found it's burial in the trash weeks ago).
Does anyone know what I am growing here; this perky little guy who's managed to beat the odds?