I own four indoor plants. Two are the ever hardy, never-say-die, heart-leaf philodendron plants. I grew up calling this a money plant. The other two are a plant my daughter brought home on a field trip and a tiny little thing my daughter’s teacher gave me for Christmas in 2010. The bad news is I’m a negligent parent when it comes to my green babies. The good news is, these babes are the ultimate low maintenance kids, and I strategically have three of them near my kitchen sink. When I wash dishes, if I see a frown on one of my green girls, I swoop a cup of sink rain over her drooping branches and pray for a miracle. That it wasn’t too late. And between the sunshine that beams through my kitchen window and the just in the nick of time thirst quenchers, my plants are still alive!
I know it might sound cliche, but it never ceases to amaze me what can spring up and grow from the humble beginnings of a teeny-tiny seed. Continue reading
