As a house sharing university student I had an obsession with pot plants. While everyone adored the rainforest atmosphere my plants created in our house, I had to make myself very unpopular with friends and boyfriends when the inevitable move, associated with a rental property lifestyle, loomed again.
When I finally moved into my own home, I was most excited about having my own garden. Many of my pot babies were able to set their roots free of their pots and feel real earth between their toes.
As the years passed, much of my energy was spent in my new garden. However, it wasn’t long before I was returning from the garden center with more terracotta pots. As the plants grew, I needed to buy bigger pots and then buy smaller plants to put in the empty small pots. I have once again established an enormous collection! Many of the plants are so big and heavy I can no longer re-pot them on my own.
Watering the collection twice a week has become ritualized in my life. I notice that some of the plants have died but I still water the pots as my thoughts drift. When my daughter was born, I would strap her to my belly in a papoose and she would watch each of the plants receive their sustaining drink most intently. This specimen, a very root bound old man, is my daughter’s favorite because it has Eyes.