So what gives man. I mean, I thought I had a green thumb and then I can’t even keep a cactus alive. Succulents are supposed to be easy. I would rather keep orchids.
I have no idea how to diagnose indoor plants. Give a tomato with a cracked stem or an aster with a fungus and I’m all over it. But, this. Seriously. How do I figure out what happened here? Some sort of bacterial or fugal issue. But it didn’t show any signs. It just lost its erection for no reason. Maybe it was exhausted with the contemporary pressures of being a phallus.
At first I thought my plants cried because we moved and they didn’t like it but now they have had plenty of time to adjust and I don’t really want plants that can’t tough it out. I am not one of those gardeners that will dig a spider plant out of a college kid’s apartment dumpster and bring it home to see if I can nurse it back to health.
About eight years ago, Andy fell in love with this big, beautiful, twenty-year-old jade. He would prune it meticulously and read about succulent care and wouldn’t let anyone else water it. I found this to be so hot because he has never been aroused at all by plants and he married a huge garden dork who is turned on by the meristematic region and soil microbial activity.
The jade lived at his mom’s house when we were in college and didn’t fare so well in the transport to our house. Sadly, this is the once beautiful jade after I cut off anything that could survive:
The other parts aren’t worth photographing. The pathetic buds are in a tiny pot struggling to spawn and I am hopeful that by the time bug graduates from high school, the plant will be back in its prime. OK, so maybe there is a little bit of that nurturing, loving, save-a-spider-plant in me.