As my faithful readers know, I’m a bit of a plant person. I like to garden in the warm weather, which here in New England is all too short. There are a few indoor plants scattered about the house. I may have mentioned this, but Elizabeth now sleeps in The Plant Room when she comes home for the weekend. This was formerly “Betsy’s bedroom”, and then became “my study”. Now, with a few bits and bobbles of plant material that I’ve collected, and from time to time, add to my collection from local nurseries, the grocery store, it has a more formal title.
In an effort to connect my plants to the Princess, who refers to my collecting as “squandering her inheritance”, I’ve decided to name several plants in honor of her interests. Elizabeth, being in media, obviously takes a keen interest in anything film-related, and in recent years has developed a passion for “true crime”. She introduced me to the genre several years ago, when we began a series on the California Serial Killer. That was a fun and lively television series in which even the reporter documenting the information became severely depressed and eventually dies. I can still hear that creepy voice of the stalker on the telephone to his victims. Meanwhile, she’s got her mother hooked on a number of docuseries of murder and mayhem. At all hours of the day, I’ll wander into the living room to hear coming from the tv, “My first thoughts of murdering my father were . . . . .” Oh, yes, that will end well. So, with an eye to family connections and “hands across the dining room table”, and some degree of self-preservation, I have begun to name my plants according their traits and characteristics. It’s what I call the Hulu Collection. Here are some of my favorites.
I acquired a beautiful Monstera, aka Swiss cheese plant. This, I’m happy to report, is doing extremely well in the living room. In fact, so well that I purchased a second one that had been lingering somewhat lonely in the plant section of the grocery store. Yes, I watched it for weeks, and finally seized the moment. They’ve been repotted and both are doing splendidly together. So, in honor of Her Ladyship and her love of detective series, I call the pair, “Rizzoli and Isles”. They seem quite happy with those monikers, although their rapid-fire banter is subdued.
Sometime back, I acquired a very nice Calathea Silvia. It has beautiful touches of red veining and on the backs of the leaves. I call it “Jeffrey Dahmer”, in recognition of Elizabeth’s recent exploration of the documentary. Again, it’s an effort to reach out and connect with her interests. Similarly, I have a very nice Calathea Orbifolia, or as it’s known here, “Ted Bundy”. A bit ragged and scruffy, but loveable none-the-less. By the slider to the porch is a very attractive curly spider, “Son of Sam”. This collection is, informally, the botanical garden. Her Ladyship and the Princess refer to it as “The Rainforest” and, with just a hint of derision, “The Jungle” depending on their mood and whim. In any event, it’s quite striking, and for some reason these plants are quite liking the location. There’s always an element of chance in locating plants, as plant people all know. I have to get the sunlight just right, or they’ll protest by shriveling up turning brown.
In the Plant Room, I have several striking Snake plants, part of my “Knives Out” collection. They provide a nice counterpoint to some of the other distinctive foliage plants. In the dining room are two ZZ plants. (Zamioculcas zamiifolia, in case you’re interested.) These are low light, and have been doing well there. I like it because these are the ones I frequently forget to water, and they’re fine with that. I haven’t really named them, so I can invite my readers to suggest names that are appropriate. Or, I recommend to anyone to submit a bid for naming rights. I can assure my readers that all proceeds for the sale of “naming” will be reinvested in future plants.
In the bedroom there is a large mandevilla with bright red blooms, in from the back deck. It likes to be trimmed and groomed, and is a bit finicky – I’m thinking “Poirot” would be an appropriate name. Of course, that means that I’ll have to find a “Hastings” to go with it.
I have managed to spread out my plant acquisitions to all rooms in the house save the bathrooms, which have no windows and hence, no natural light. Available plant locations are diminishing rapidly. I know this definitively because the Princess keeps reminding me. “Dad, you don’t have room for anything more!” I did toss around in my mind, although I had to express the thought out loud, of putting in skylights. That seems a rather expensive solution, and in all honesty, Her Ladyship probably won’t think my plants justify the cost. Being a condominium, I’m somewhat limited for space. I can’t really just bang out a wall and add a conservatory or a greenhouse. The association frowns on spontaneous, unauthorized additions and outbuildings.
With the onset of colder weather and the cessation of outdoor activities, I’ll just say that I’m limiting myself to surreptitious procurement of new plants, placing them in not-too-obvious locations. From time to time, as plants don’t do well, I can again slip in discrete replacements, and these remain largely unnamed. It’s like a movie – again an unintended bit of outreach to Elizabeth. You have the main characters, whose names we all know. Then, there are the “extras”. You need to form a complete picture, but their names aren’t essential. In the credits, they show up as “boy on the street”. Unless they’re called upon to speak, they’re nameless. So too are my lesser plants. I watch over them, take care of them, speak to them, and cherish their unique qualities. But they don’t really rise to the level of a “named” plant beyond their genus and species.
Well, I’m off. Her Ladyship has just started a new True Crime, recommended, of course by the Media Expert. It’s about a family in the South, and when I poked my head in, mother and son had just been shot. So, I’ll need to look around for something that looks like it belongs on a plantation. Something leafy and drooping. Maybe something that’s name sounds like a drawl, or something that looks like it could garnish a tall drink. Oh, wait. I have a very attractive Croton that I could name – it’s yellow, orange, and green. I think “Taco Belle”, in honor of Henry Wallace, the Taco Bell Strangler. That’s a nice touch, and cries out for a True Crime documentary.
I'm Thinking...No! 