I'm telling you. Really. I loved that plant the moment our eyes met. Well, the moment my eyes met its leaves. Shoot, it was beautiful before it became just another dead houseplant. I thought the love would last forever. I bought my dearly beloved everything it needed: a nice pretty pot to spend it days lounging around in, some extra nutrients to keep everything perking along, and even some fine dark robust fancy (the best my money could buy) potting soil.I found the perfect growing place for my plant, you know: Not too much sun and not too much shade. I even talked to the houseplant. I thought about leaving some Classical music on, but decided against it. Maybe that was the problem, my sweet dead houseplant longed for some beautiful music so it moved on to greener places.
The planting directions were followed perfectly, so smoothly...just like a cup of perfectly brewed coffee. Well, maybe I followed them most of the way. Okay, so I added some used coffee grinds. I was tired, so I did have another cup of coffee. Maybe there were more than a few coffee grinds, so, what's it to ya? See, this is the story: I promised to stop drinking as much coffee. You know, I once saw a kid's science project at the County Fair. "This plant was grown with coffee!" yelled the sign above the robust plant. Well, then. If some coffee was good, I decided that "Hey! lots of coffee grinds are better!". Of course, not to mentioned that I found a great place to hide the used coffee grinds from prying eyes that just have to know how many cups of coffee I'm drinking and what time I'm drinking them and how come I can't sleep at night so I'm up half the night writing articles. Oh yeah, calm, calm, calm. Must calm myself. I'm not drinking coffee so it cannot appear that my behavior suggests such a thing."Hmmmmmmmmmmmm....Hmmmmmmmmm....Hmmmmmm."
Now my gentle readers, please remember: I did not mean to harm my precious plant, so please do not turn me in to the plant rescue society. My mother loved plants and my grandpa loved plants. I guess my Great Grandma did too, because she was from Sweden. I looked her little town (Hogsby, Sweden) up on that earth (you know the one, I'm not sure that I can name it here) program and it looks to me like she must have liked plants because that is all I could see on that earth program (you know the one). I did not even see one house; everything looked like one giant shrub so plants are obviously in my family tree.
A little brown creature from outer space (or is that just a dried leaf?)
now gazes sadly at me from my plant's beautiful empty pot. That little brown creature should look sad; after all it took away the house plant that I loved so much. Next time I am in the store, looking at happy green plants with bright joyful flowers, I will remember the wizened old creature and I will promise to never buy another plant.
Actually, when plants are in one's family tree, I'm not so sure a promise like that can be kept or maybe even should be kept. So, how about some easier promises? I promise not to hide my hideous coffee grinds in the planting container. I promise that I will remember to water my plant even when life gets busy. I promise to actually give the extra nutrients to my plant instead of leaving them in my garage. And I promise that I will never, ever stop loving plants. Even after getting poison ivy one day last summer, when I was only 4 years old. Okay, give or take 40 years. But that, dear readers, is another story for another day.
For you, please remember to water your houseplants to keep them from being dead houseplants that transform into little brown creatures from outer space. Please don't make your houseplants beg for a drink as they hold little signs; "Will work for water!". Really, plants do work for you; try breathing without any plants in the world. Run for your watering can, I'll bet your houseplants need a nice drink of water right NOW! (Really, they asked me...no begged me to write this article. Plus, the little blue squares are silent sublineal messages from your little green plants. That is why it is way past Midnight Thirty and I'm wide awake writing.) Or, maybe...it is the coffee after all...
(Editor's Note: This article was originally published on February 12, 2008. (The author passed away in late 2010, so there will not be any responses to any questions or comments posted to the article.)