August 1: Mama’s Little Shefflura

I bought this shefflura - also known as an umbrella plant because of the shape of the leaves - in a 6 inch pot at Ikea at least 10 years ago.  Ikea is a terrific resource for amazing plants and this little gem is proof.  

Though it’s not really a “little gem” anymore.  At nearly 5 feet tall (and that's after a big pruning), it’s more of a tree, albeit a tree that needs to come inside to survive the Winter season.  In the Summer, it lives in a corner of the front porch.  In the Winter, it comes inside on a wheeled stand because it’s far too heavy for me to maneuver too many steps on my own.  I love it for its lush greenery, its rapid growth, and its insistence of taking up the space it needs to grow.  I find that a powerful reminder that I should unapologetically do the same.   

July 1: Christmas (Cactus) in July

Nearly all of my houseplants are outside on the front porch for the Summer and that includes the tiny transplant from my Dad’s Christmas cactus.  It held its own after I returned from California in February, though it did not grow.  For obvious reasons, this particular plant is special to me, so I put it on the porch with some reluctance and in a spot where I would be sure to see it every day.  In mid-June, I saw red growth on the end of all four stems.  This is the first Christmas cactus I've grown and I wondered if the spots of red meant a bloom was coming.  Turns out that the red was the start of new growth.  

Those red buds buds grew into four new stems and then four more red buds followed.  I know now that means more stems are taking hold.  Huzzah!

I check in on the cactus every morning when I drink my coffee on the porch.  That the plant is an offshoot of my Dad’s is a source of comfort and peace to me.  The new growth feels like a message from him and I am best pleased to see it.

May 1: Terra Catta

A few weeks ago, JT and a friend went to Grounds for Sculpture , one of those gems of a place that is tucked into a corner of New Jersey.  They had fun and brought home this charming planter for me.  

I immediately named it Terra Catta because of course I did.  It’s the perfect size for a transplant from one of my other plants and I’m giving a new shefflura a try.  If that doesn’t work, I know that a pothos will and I’m a woman with an abundant pothos collection.  

Terra Catta will please me for years to come and that’s happy.

April 1: Teacup, the Pothos Plant

This pothos plant has been around for a while….at least 15 years by my reckoning.

The plant lives in a giant blue tea cup planter that has white polka dots.  Such a thing is as on-brand for me as humanly possible,  lover of tea cups and polka dots that I am.  

The plant owns this corner of the red bench in the Winter and will take center stage on the front porch table come warmer weather.  Cuttings from this pothos are the foundation for several additional pothos plants that live in my care.  A pothos is easy to care for and unfailingly lovely, which is a happy development for this gardener.  It's worthy of a celebration always, but especially as April makes its appearance.

March 1: Lily, Who Brings Me Peace

This plant is known to me as Lily, because I love the name Lily and the plant is a peace lily so…..let’s just say I won’t tamper with a good thing.  

I’ve had her for nearly 10 years.  Though she started as a tiny little plant, she’s grown quite a bit and now occupies a sizable planter.  Lily blooms pretty reliably, usually in the late Spring when she moves to the front porch, and sometimes in the late Fall, when she comes indoors for the Winter. 

Lily has spent most of this year’s cold weather season seated here by the back deck window, where light can be found on the sunny days and where I can say hello and bask in her glow each morning when I come downstairs.  She’s low maintenance and high reward, which is a happy development in all living things, but especially a house plant.   That she invariably makes me smile is her plant super power and I am grateful for Lily.

February 1: Ursula the Aloe

I have a friend who names all of her houseplants.  Lest you conclude that she only has three or four plants, I hasten to report that she has nearly as many houseplants as I do.  I am impressed by her naming game.  Most of my plants don’t have names but a few do and this month’s plant certainly does.  Internet, please meet Ursula.

Three years ago, Ursula lived in this blue pot and she was only slightly larger than the aloe that lives here today.  

The plant currently in this modest blue pot is an offshoot from Ursula (a pup…that is seriously what they are called).  Her name is Avril.  Keeping Avril was risky given how Ursula has grown.  But I can’t say no to a plant, so here we are.  

In the Winter, Ursula lives in the living room, next to the radiator and on a plant stand so that she can be easily moved should such a need arise.  She’ll relocate to the front porch come Spring.  But no matter where she lives, Ursula is impressive, if prickly.  Though she’s something of an inconvenient companion, I just can’t bring myself to give her up.

January 1: Taking Root

In December, I began to think again about this blog, which has been neglected in the last couple of years.  For a long time, I was grateful for this place to record my thoughts and mark the passage of time.  I’m not the sort to make resolutions, but I’ve enjoyed writing of late and the blog is back for now.  I’m looking forward to posting more often this year.   

As has been my custom, I’ll start each month with a post about something in the natural world.  This year, that’s going to be the houseplants that bring me happiness on a daily basis.  I’ve a bit of a green thumb and I love houseplants.  More than two dozen flourish in my care and they are all over the house and my office at school.  Some go outside for the summer; all of them bring me joy and help me to feel grounded. 

Like any good mama, I don’t have a favorite plant.  Each is valued on their own terms and each is meaningful to me for a different reason.  For January, I pick this little pothos, which currently has a spot on the radiator in the dining room. 

I have many a pothos plant; they are easy to care for and they grow in abundance.  Some of mine have variegated leaves; others are a verdant green  This plant was started from clippings from the plant that lives on the top of my living room bookshelf.  It had begun to trail the floor and, loathe to throw out the trimmings, I showed JT how to transplant them.  We did that in the midst of our hard summer and I can remember telling him that life was sometimes like a plant waiting to take root; not always much to look at but always with potential.  I told him that the tiny transplant was an investment in hope for the future.  Privately, I crossed my fingers that the plant would take root and begin to thrive and that when it did, JT would also be better situated. 

This little plant is in a better place today, as is the son who helped me to grow it.  I start 2023 with gratitude for this growth, and that feels like the right note for a new year.

Reality Check

Last week, my sister sent me a text message to see if I am okay.  Your blog hasn’t been updated in the last week, she noted, and this made her worried.  

I reassured her that all is well, I am just crazy busy at work and eager to escape the computer screen when the work can be set aside at the close of the day.  No need to be concerned, I texted.  I am fine.  Just busy and worried.

Busy with worry?

My school - with about 700 students and staff spread out from pre-K to 12th grade and on a campus of over 40 acres - plans to return to campus for in-person class in the Fall.  That doesn’t worry me - I am excited to return and I believe that we can do so safely - but it does entail a prodigious amount of planning.  And it’s layers and layers of planning for even the smallest details.  Things that normally cause no concern - the drinking fountain, passing time in the hallways, books for use in class - are suddenly of great concern.  

We’ve been planning since May, before the last school year ended, and it’s been non-stop.  I joke and say that my lists have lists.  It’s meant to be amusing.  It’s also true.  

New Jersey flattened the curve and has successfully held the line but there are still nearly 14,000 of my fellow New Jerseyans who have died from this pandemic.  We’ve held the line as the rest of the nation’s cases have exploded but we do not live in a tidy Northeastern bubble and fear is our new daily companion.  For all of our planning and hopes about school on campus, I’m aware that we may have to be remote for the start of the school year.  Perhaps for all of the school year (or at least until there is a vaccine).  It’s scary to plan so much amidst so much uncertainty.  But I know people who have recovered from COVID-19; I know people who have died from it.  I know that we can’t afford to ignore this virus.

So I make plans.  Posting has been lighter than usual while I navigate this worrisome upside down world.  When I step away from my computer at the end of the day, I slow my mind, pick up my book, visit my flowers and plants, and find enough hope to start again the next day.  

Crazy Plant Lady

For my birthday last November, my sister gave me a house plant subscription.  Each month, a new plant came to live in my green menagerie.  I was most delighted by my expanding collection.  By April, I had 6 new plants happily thriving in my house, all of them headed to the front porch for the Summer.  The last plant to arrive was a Croton plant with variegated red-edged leaves.  Like all the other plants it was welcome.  Soon after my sister reminded me that the plant surprises would be coming to an end, three more Croton plants appeared.  I began to transplant en masse.

And then two more.

Six in total.  I gave away three to good homes and kept the other three for myself.  They are thriving in the sunlight of my front porch and though there are some concerns about where all these plants will go come the cold weather season, I'm not worried.  Instead, like the crazy plant lady I am, I cheer on each new leaf that they grow.   

Class Picture

For my birthday last November, my sister gave me a houseplant subscription. Each month, for 7 months, a new houseplant arrived in the mail.  It was utterly delightful and I quickly stocked up on some new pots to place my growing collection.  Each plant was different.  Some I had grown before, others I had not tried.  All of them were healthy and lovely. and arrived with an instruction card so I knew how much water and sunlight they like.  They thrived in the sunny spot my plants live in for the Winter season, a veritable wall of green that I love to tend in the cold months.

This past week, the weather finally warmed up sufficiently for the plants to be taken outside.  Some were immediately transplanted to larger pots.  

At least one more needs a new pot and will get it this weekend. For now, they are collected together in the front porch sunlight, making me smile every time I step outside.

The Little Hosta That Could

The hostas in my front yard flowerbed are an assortment I've gathered over the years.  Some are transplants from a friend’s garden, some were split and moved from my backyard, some were purchased from a gardening neighbor who splits his hostas each Spring and then sells the splits for an absurdly low price.  This patch came from the friend and have grown quite nicely.  So determined in fact, that one has even split through the steps.

Any normal person would cut this plant out so that the steps remain secure.  I am not normal and think of this little plant as the little hosta that could.  So it stays (and the steps are just fine, so there is no cause for worry).  This is yet another example of my insane affection for hosta plants.  With this much beauty to behold, who could be sorry?

Front Porch in May

My front porch comes into it’s warm-weather own come the month of May.  This is the month of flowers and plants outside.  But process is gradual because it’s not yet quite warm enough for all of my plants to be outside. So the month’s plants are a two-step process.  The first steps happened on Saturday.  A new flag is flying.

The green-ribboned wreath is on the front door.

The table has some of the hearty ivy that spent the winter outside.  

Later this month, more flowers and plants will also arrive.  By then, this porch will be ready to host me and my morning coffee.  In the midst of all the uncertainty right now, I’m looking forward to the certainty of time on the front porch, my balm in every season.

Crazy Plant Lady

Schefflura plants grow quickly and mine seems to be the dictionary example of that truth.  I got it two years ago from my secret source of amazing houseplants, Ikea, and it grew steadily that first summer it lived at Sassafras House.  Last year, it grew so big I had to transplant it into a larger pot at the start of the summer.  I did that, brought it inside for the cold weather and set it in a southern window. By the end of the winter I had a tree.

It’s outside on the front porch now and it’s enormous and getting bigger by the day.  If a windy storm blows through, its leaves rustle and it is in danger of being tipped over.  So I haul it inside for its own safety.  It’s nearly 5 feet tall and as I’m barely 5 foot 3 inches, this has become ridiculous.  I should trim off the three tall limbs, leaving a still-generous schefflura to grow.

But it’s a live plant and that’s a really hard step for me to take.  And so I lug it inside during storms and otherwise cater to its whims and needs.  This is the lot of a crazy plant lady and I’ve no choice but to embrace it.

Peace Lily

I have a bit of a green thumb and I love house plants.  Helping things to grow is rewarding and a way that I help myself to live in the moment.   Most years, I manage to restrain myself and I only add one plant to my collection.  Last summer, that was a pretty little peace lily.  It did well on the front porch and thrived when I moved it inside so that Spring found my peace lily in need of some room to grow.  I transplanted it and then held my breath, because transplants are sometimes tricky. I needn’t have fretted, as the peace lily is coming along quite nicely.

White flowers are on their way.  The new pot provides plenty of space for the plant to grow.  It’s out on the porch again for the summer and I greet it each day.  In return, it rewards me with its lovely self.

Peace Lily

Some years ago, when I lived in Nebraska, I had an enormous peace lily plant.  I gave it away when I left the state because it was too large to carry across the country with a dog and a toddler in tow.  A few weeks ago, I was at Ikea when I spotted a small peace lily and thought, “that’s coming home with me.”  And so it did.  It’s already thriving on the front porch and will need repotting before the summer is over.

In the humid early mornings, the leaves and budding flowers have drops of dew on their tips.  

The dewdrops are usually gone by 9 am but while they last they are lovely and remind me to look carefully for the moments of fleeting beauty in the world.

The Value of a Green Thumb

Last summer, I got myself a small fuchsia plant.  It thrived on the front porch.  It came indoors for the winter and at first seemed to do fine.  Then it hit an unhappy patch and has looked peaked every since.  It came back outside in May and all summer long I’ve nursed it along.  In the past few weeks, it’s finally started to look better.  There are nearly a dozen flower blooms in the process of making an appearance.

It has tiny leaves looking like they are set in to stay.

Amongst the other front porch plants, it still looks a bit anemic, but it’s coming along nicely.  Flowers and plants provide me with a satisfaction and happiness that endures long after a hard day.  They are my reminder to be patient, to live in the moment, and to invest time and care in the world even when results seem elusive.  

Garden Report, Week Eight: Monday, July 24

This point in the summer often signals the start of a transition to comes, as things that have been furiously growing began to look weary from their efforts.  My basil plants have clearly been a snack bush for some creatures.

The tomatoes are still looking pretty good, though some of the heavy from the past week's storms was rough on some of the bushes.  I've re-staked and I am hopeful the plants will cope nicely.

The zinnia patch is in a hurry to bring me blooms and bouquets.

The sunlight that shines here has a special quality to me because it brings reward for my efforts and the prospect of a fresh-picked tomato on the supper table.

Tuesday Garden Update: July 12

After a truckload of sunlight and heat last week, Mother Nature sent us bountiful rains to start the weekend.  The garden is loving it.

There are tomatoes growing like mad.

Zinnias are coming along nicely.

There are hot peppers about ready for picking.

Fertilizer has been added; next up is a little 3:1 water/nonfat milk treatment to treat blight.  I await a bountiful harvest of flowers, tomatoes, squash, peppers, and basil.

That’s happy!

Tuesday Garden Update: July 5

The garden is mulched and the warm, sunny days mean that growing is happening by leaps and bounds.  I’ve picked my first tomato; many more are set on and making progress.

The zinnia rows are taller by the day.  I added some extra seeds to fill in the gaps and those tiny seedlings are also growing.

I’m out here every day, checking the progress,  looking after my plants, and re-arranging the sprinkler as needed.  I check the blooms and admire the progress.  I daydream about the cucumbers and zucchini in my future.

This part of summer is delightful but always seems fleeting, perhaps because it’s filled with such promise.

July on the Front Porch

As June began to wane, my friend T (known in my world as daytime T, because we work together) gifted me with a charming homemade wreath for my door.  She made it herself and it is perfectly lovely.  I came straight home and hung it on the door.

With July on the front door, it seemed fitting to change out the tablecloth on my cast iron table.  This navy blue gingham cloth was a real find.
  

My outdoor plant and flower collection has grown since June, a summer development that seems to happen each year.

The impatiens in the polka dot pot by my rocking chair have filled out nicely.

This porch is my summer haven, the place where I start each day with a book and a cup of coffee in the early morning.  Most summer evenings, I sit out here to read and watch the last of the sunlight fade.  On busy days during the school year, when unscheduled time seems a distant memory, I open up my photo collection and these pictures feed my soul.  

That’s happy!