At Lowe’s this weekend, I wheeled my cart full of rescue plants from the clearance rack in the garden center to seek out more rescues in the houseplant department. An elderly gentleman approached me, indicated my bedraggled looking bounty, and asked with too much skepticism in his soft corduroy voice, “You think those are gonna snap back?”
I was used to my Grandpa being playful and teasing and having fun, so I thrust one skinny arm into the air, gestured affectionately at the plants with my other arm, and replied with too much excitement in my own voice “Yes, I choose to believe!!”
“You think you’re just gonna water ’em and they’ll be ok?”
At this point I blacked out, spiraling into a messy explanation of all the things I might do to revive them, like trimming and soaking and shading and super-thriving, and yes of course watering and singing them Norwegian Wood, trying hard to conceal from someone else’s grandpa my growing dread.
He blinked at me, furrowed his brow and dipped his chin low, then walked away. Did not even say goodbye. Clearly I had misread his tone. So I tried to reconnect with this stranger by calling vaguely toward the back of his sloped shoulders, “They’ll snap back right?” He swiveled his head in an elliptical shape that could have been either an affirming nod or a dismissive shake, I wasn’t sure.
I looked down at my mostly dead growing projects, thought of all the brassica plants already suffering at the farm thanks to selfish, unrepentant chickens, and wondered why I hate myself so much.
On the bright side, we have lots of mulch, and mulch covers a multitude of garden sins.
The End.
“There is no medicine like hope,
no incentive so great, and no tonic so powerful
as expectation of something better tomorrow.”
-Orison Sweet Marden
What? Ok, who wrote this because it couldn’t have been Marie Flower Garden Wreath! The same Marie who sees beauty in ALL things, the Marie who embraces the wonderful cyclical nature of life, the Marie who manifests miracles in others hopelessness. Whether the plants thrive or wither, they were placed carefully in their last home by hands of love.
Now Marie, you shouldn’t let someone try to steal your joy, I bet your rescued plants will be fine. You know plants. This reminds me of back when I wanted to be a writer, and I went to school for it at OU, and people would say to me “do you really think you can do that?” Wonder how that turned out. People who don’t live their dreams live boring lives. Xoxo~~Dee
The answer is yes, they will bounce back under your watchful loving eye.
Haha I adore you! I’m not the only one over explaining things to strangers!? I’ve embarked in quiet a few new social situations lately and questioned myself and my words. I’m reminded we are kindred spirits and that is right where I need to be. ❤️