Wednesday, March 14, 2012
A slow spring
Lately, I find myself obsessing over house plants. For someone who, just a month ago, caused instant death to my mother's orchid, I find the development nothing short of manic. My mother's orchid was in its life's second full bloom when it arrived here for babysitting. One week later, all the leaves had withered and fallen off. The flowers followed a few days later.
Given that, I am slightly concerned about my recent purchases: basil, tomato, chili, strawberry, poppy and pumpkin seeds, a sorbus tree and a cherry tree, purple thyme, Siberian bugloss and two varieties of hostas. I've recently planted the first four on the list, and am still waiting for the rest to arrive from a plant nursery.
Last month I took up sewing to keep me occupied. I made a few items of clothing which my kids could only wear once (I always think my kids are smaller than they actually are). I'm giving it a small rest for now... a pause to ... erm.... study my kids in their natural habitat before embarking on any more sewing projects. As for the plants... well, let's just say I haven't got a green thumb. I'd say it's more like a gray-brown thumb.
Make no mistake: I'm desperate. It's mid-March and there's still a meter of snow on the ground. Yesterday it snowed. Then it was sunny, then it snowed again. It's like the Finnish rain-gods like to torment poor wretched souls who are waiting to pounce on any signs of the forthcoming spring. I'm pulled out of my miserable shell, enticed by a warm ray of sunlight, and then a sluice of sleet, hail and snow chastises me for daring to be so naive.
No. Spring will never come. Go kill yourself now. I guess it's no wonder that Finns are the most prone to suicide at this time of year. Yes, you've made it out of the darkness, but we'll still tease you by dangling the promise of spring just out of your reach.
After some discussion, my dad and I concluded that the orchid died because it was exposed, if only for a few minutes, to temperatures below -20. Some plants just weren't made for this climate. I still haven't thrown that orchid out. I just can't let go of the hope that, with regular care, it'll somehow spring back to life.
Am I the only one who is clinging for dear life? Desperate to see life? Hoping to stay alive? Life life life life life! Please show me a sign from inside that frozen white cadaver pouch!
fon @ 6:06 PM link to post * *