On Houseplants and Relatives - Easy Does It
By Tim King
This is the time of year when the plants inside my house become the focus of my attention. As the last of the leaves are finally picked up, shredded, composted and/or dumped off at the recycling center, there is very little for me to take care of outside now. The gardens have been mulched, a few more bulbs have been planted and the tomato stakes have been pulled up and stored away for the winter.
Keeping houseplants around serves as my ‘dirt fix’ through the long cold months when the temperature drops and the ground freezes. Although there is nowhere near the same variety or color, keeping a few small palm’s, syngonium’s (Arrowhead Vine), pothos (Devil’s Ivy) and dracaena’s provides me with the assurance that there is a green light at the end of the tunnel that is a Maine winter.
Taking time to prune off dead leaves, loosen and aerate the soil and transplant my collection into bigger pots gives me at least a small dose of the outdoors that I love so much.
I find that what makes houseplants difficult to take care of in the winter is trying to find a balance between maintaining a warm environment for my family and a moist environment for the plants. Like many of us, with the rising cost of home heating oil, I have become increasingly dependent on wood - the first fuel. Our wood stove has been going since the end of September, creating ‘on demand’ warmth where we need it most – our first floor living area.
Trouble is, what the wood stove giveth in heat, it also taketh away in moisture from the air.
Lately, it seems that every few days, I’m noticing a droop on the leaves of the plants around the house, especially in the room where the stove is. It takes me a few weeks to catch on to this new situation. For more than six months now, the plants have pretty much taken care of themselves. I give them a little water and a touch of fertilizer every couple weeks and they are good to go. Water stays where I put it and the plants take what they need, when they need it.
However, this time of year is different. The trouble occurs after I notice the aforementioned leave droop and administer the ultra-scientific “stick my finger in the dirt test.” After said test, determining that the plant really is drier than Hades, I dutifully go to the sink, fill my watering can (empty milk jug) and attempt to immediately resuscitate my poor, neglected photosynthesized friends, with a quart of water…each.
Maybe it’s the dire straights I believe the plants to be in when I finally discover that I have ignored them for too long. It just seems that in November and December ‘too long’ is not so long anymore. With a big black metal box cranking out 600 degrees of heat for hours at a time, its no wonder that none of the plants remain wet for very long. However, it is often my rescuing - rather my method of rescuing - that becomes more of a problem then just a few droopy leaves.
It all starts when I begin to make the rounds with my watering can. As I travel from room to room, replenishing the water that has been sucked dry from the plants - then adding a little bit more for safe measure - more often than not, I am not rewarded by the joyous sounds of a thirsty plant springing back to life, but rather the gurgled shouts (and drips) of water cascading from under the pot, over the coffee table and onto the floor.
Muddy Waters may be wonderful to listen to on the radio, but let me tell you, its no picnic cleaning it off the living room floor! Especially when it’s accompanied by yet another verse of the “I can’t believe you did that again” blues from my Better Half.
This reminds me of the old adage ‘killing it with kindness.’ Rather than saturating the soil with more water than the plant is prepared to absorb, I should be slowly adding water to the pot and letting it sink in. Providing for the plant on its terms, not my own.
You see, even though I may perceive my plants to be in desperate need of attention, the truth is that they can still take care of themselves pretty well. By thinking that I can quickly remedy any situation by giving them a double dose of water, I find that all I’m left with is nothing but a dirty mess on the floor – and a plant that will be dry again tomorrow.
The John Mayer song Gravity explains it this way: “Twice as much, ain’t twice as good, and can't sustain like a one half could. It's wanting more, that's gonna send me to my knees.”
I think that in the same way, when we try to cram a whole years worth of good deeds, kind words and affection into a few short weeks around the holidays, it can get pretty messy too.
Think of the proverbial big kiss and hug from Auntie So-and-So that you got when you were a kid at Christmastime. She may have honestly thought that the hug made up for a whole year of not seeing you, and it probably made her feel pretty good. But when it was over, you were probably feeling a little silly, frustrated or sad. Just the opposite of what your good intentioned Auntie had in mind.
It seems simple, but you can only truly satisfy someone when you give something that they need, when they need it – and not an ounce more. It’s like having 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife. Ironic, don’t you think? Alanis Morissette. Plants are no different.
So take it slow and steady with your houseplants and your loved ones this winter. I’ve learned to take small, baby steps with both, knowing that they will each only take as much attention from me as they need. Anything more just ends up wasted on the kitchen floor. Sure, the giving may take a little longer this way, but at least I know that what I give will actually be wanted, accepted…and appreciated.
