Monday, October 26

The large white bird of paradise in my living room is one of several houseplants in decline. I bought it on my birthday three or four years ago and have given it the bare minimum of maintenance. I keep it watered and prune its paddle-like leaves when they turn brown. It sees the sun, though rarely enjoys its full effect. "Surviving, not thriving," as my friend Jess would say. 

Before it becomes terminal, I carry it outside and give it a gentle trim, then replace the old soil. I know I'm supposed to repot it into a larger vessel, but I'm on a budget, so it's back into the 12-inch terracotta planter for now. The same goes for the wild, overgrown cactus, which falls apart as I try to save it. I rearrange its surviving pups in fresh soil and hope for the best. 

Although the dracaena in my kitchen nook is in good health, it clearly needs a new home and is taking over the space. Meanwhile, the majesty palm in the bathroom seems depressed, with only one new shoot poking out of its fibrous trunk. Everybody is in trouble all at once.