The waiting game

My houseplants are still outdoors, so every day, I find myself listening to the weather forecast, waiting to hear about frost. Today I heard the dreaded words: chance of it this weekend in the outer suburbs, which is where I live. And that means it’s time to bring the houseplants in. I hate bringing the houseplants in. First of all, as I’ve mentioned before on this blog, my houseplants aren’t, for the most part, attractive. Oh, I have one nice ficus, but that stays indoors all year. Other than that, it’s a pretty ragtag collection of old amaryllis that may or may not put up flower stalks this winter, a hibiscus that’s too big for anywhere I put it, the odd geranium, an oxalis I’ve had since time began, a couple of way-overgrown Christmas cactuses, one of which never, ever blooms, a fiddle-leaf ficus I rescued out of a trash can, a Norfolk pine that’s barely hanging on after 21 years, a mini-0range tree that’s ditto … you get the idea.

If I didn’t move most of these outdoors for the summer, they’d look even worse than they do. But that doesn’t ease the annoyance of moving a whole bunch of pretty ugly plants inside, to cover every free inch of radiator in the living room. Marcia! Can’t you stage an intervention and make me move all these plants … straight into a big plastic trash bag?


1 Comment

  1. Marcia said,

    October 22, 2010 at 9:13 pm

    Sorry I’m no better than you. You know I load mine up in the car and take them to work rather than throw them in the trash. If I had room up there I’d take yours too but now my boss is bringing his unwanted plants up. It’s starting to look like a jungle up there.

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