HOUSE PLANTS III

I am not fond of houseplants, either. When we moved, I had a Baker’s rack (remember those?) of houseplants that had taken over. That’s what houseplants do when you let them in – they grow, they cling, they wrap themselves around legs and rods like serpents or drunken teenagers; they collect dust. Once you let them in, it’s all over – Fatal Attraction. You give them away but they come back as cuttings.

The only way to destroy them is to nuke them with a strong chemical weed killer or weapons of grass destruction.

But we have a spider plant which was conceived in my wedding bouquet. Brides these days carry smart posies and trim ribbon-wrapped bouquets – back in Lady Di’s era, we bore these cascading shrubs of bouquets – Di’s was so large it camouflaged her during the carriage ride from St. Paul’s Cathedral. Mine was loaded with roses and lilies and Lord knows what, plus a little spider plant that thrived and survived and still is with us today, 25 years later.

You have to show those plants who’s boss. I permitted the spider plants (we had quintuplets) to move with us. My husband gets very emotional if I threaten them. But there are strict rules. I trim them often, with shears. (It hurts to be beautiful.) They sun happily and reproduce these little hanging mini spiders when they think I’m not looking.

One of these days I’m going to put them on birth control pills!