Gary, neighbor always plant and shrub shopping, and for whom I'm the lifetime consultant on things green, came over suddenly, it's always suddenly, this evening wanting an opinion on a newly planted tree or two, and to show me a pot he bought to house an old plant collection now outgrowing its original home. No time like the present, says I, and we did the transplant surgery right away.
Then, ready to take a pic of its new appearance, he tidied and swept the patio where we did the
transplant, to show it off in its new habitat, which I must say is a
much better fit than the tiny container it came from. So he recorded it from both angles, to show its new habitat to the owner via email.
All this took place under the eye of his guard dog, Appi, who is also his granddog.
The difficulty with giving plants, especially collections, as funeral offerings, is that the recipient not only has a nice reminder of the person, but has a longtime task of keeping it going and looking good.
And when she moves away, as this recipient did, to where the plant could not come, my neighbor inherited it. She checks up regularly and wants photographic evidence that it's flourishing, so he's nervous all the time about his lack of skill.
I've been keeping it, and a lot of his other houseplants, happy, and finally said, well, would J., the mother of the person whose funeral this was for, like me simply to take custody? we know each other, we've chatted gardens, and he came over today to do the transplanting and then, not before the transplant (!) to break it to me that she agrees and that it now lives under my guardianship.
It's found a sudden place on my staging upstairs, which involved a bit of juggling, since the whole thing was a surprise, but it's okay.
And while we were at it, we did a bit of work with his sweet potato plant relative whose name I forget, and I swiped a few cuttings while I was at it, in the name of pruning.
Officially I do this to give him backup plants if the original one falters, but we both know that gardener's larceny is at work and they will be my plants, along with various other rescues.
So that was the sudden gardening that broke out, not exactly what I thought I'd be doing, but great fun all the same. He commented that he can't resist when he sees plants needing a new home..to which I said, no, I know, if you don't have room, you'll find room, even if it's next door..
I can't say I object to all this nice greenery around the place, though.
Way too hot yesterday, nineties and high humidity. So I went out this a.m. on the patio to water the remaining outdoor houseplants, and found that the flowering dieffenbachia had been knocked flat. Completely on her side, probably the work of a squirrel. They're as bad as cats for leaping and leaving turmoil behind them. Didn't have the heart to take a pic of her in distress, not knowing if she was broken or what.
Righted the poor thing, she's had a life of adventure, what with dumpster dumping, then major surgery, and this summer starting her family, flowers, that is.
And found that the upcoming flower has bust out anyway. And there's another flower in the offing, too.
I disturbed an insect on her when I righted her, which means the job of fertilizing is happening just as if her fall hadn't taken place. This plant is unsinkable.
And here's a clump of transplanted lambs' ears, from next door, result of working with neighbor on his strip out front, in front of the new small Russian sage, matching the big one out front.
And there's a little bird bath, too, hiding some of the pachy roots I was too hot to tackle, but will do in the next cool day or two.
Some houseplants are now in place in their staging areas, taking their bow all day long, so I thought you might like to see how it's working out. Here they are in the main bedroom.
Two views, one long one so you can see the Boston fern in place, and the noren, you remember the mystery Japanese textile, covering the doorway behind there. And the window treatment, posh expression, showing the thrift store hand embroidered valance, actually two table napkins, I believe.
My neighbor has already booked a spot in the staging for one of his plants until he can return it in the winter to another person, the owner's mother or something, it's always complicated with plants. So there will be a spathiphyllum joining this group.
Then there's the staging in the Nook, the other bedroom, and I found a half width plank to add to it.
You see bottom right the snake plant transplants,
rescued from squirrels, who dug them up more than once, and now putting
down tiny hair roots, so I'm hopeful about them.
The
unruly foil curtains are a wonderful thing, I got them from a catalog,
which act like one of those blankets you carry in the car for terrible
weather in case you get stuck. They retain cool inside in summer, heat
inside in winter. And the difference is startling. When you put your
hand behind them in boiling hot weather, there's a huge temp. difference
from inside them. Not pretty, but very fuel saving.
And there's the other Boston fern, presiding. And a view into my walk in closet complete with all my clothes and my stitching stores.
And the ficus and dieffenbachia will join me in the living room when I get up the energy to move them.
As promised, I did finally haul myself upstairs, many times, in fact, since the houseplants at camp on the patio are starting to come in. Cool nights coming in fast, so I need to start cleaning them up, knocking off the wildlife, cleaning dead leaves off and wiping the pots. And all that.
Much stair climbing carrying heavy stuff ensues. The big Boston ferns are hung from the two ceilings upstairs, phew, that was the hardest bit, heavy and overhead, trying to see through the foliage to aim the plant hook over the ceiling hook.
The visiting snake plant is off home with its mom today, to north Jersey, with a promise to let her come back to camp next summer. She looks wonderful after the season outdoors in shade, new little snakelets around the foot of the established leaves. And the cuttings I took from her are starting to root, so next summer she will have friends to play with. Yes, I take it personally.
Anyway, in the course of bringing in plants and noting how they've all grown, so they can't fit back where they were in May, I had to figure out some inventive and cheap ways of staging them. And, as I was thinking about whether I had a plank which I could sling across two little tables which were also coming indoors, I took a look in my outdoor storage area.
And found the leftover "planks" three lengths, from the new floors upstairs. As I was saying, oh yes, you'll do fine, my neighbor suddenly showed up and said, I caught you talking to that wood, don't deny it! I also can't deny I've started a lot of thoughts with "and" but if Hemingway could do it, I can. And he couldn't raise houseplants for toffee, neener.
The planks not only work perfectly for the purpose, strong enough to hold plants up, light enough for me to swing them about, but they match the floor! like this, seen from above:
The bedroom has the real staging, two levels, the big time. Using two little wire table things I was given, and two tall stools I've had for years and years, no idea where they came from.
In the Nook, family name for the spare room, old family joke from childhood, is a single shelf on two low tables, originally found in the dumpster, brought in from the patio.
Results: nice looking very pleasing staging areas which keeps plants in light and off windowsills, and off the floor, and won't drive my cleaners mad. No tools involved. Total expenditure today: $0.
All the plants were either from slips or offshoots, one, the pony palm was a gift, the others all by propagation chez moi. This is just the advance party of plants, more to come when I get my strength back.
Now if this doesn't gladden the heart of a frugal DIYer, I don't know what will!
