I used to be a terrible plant lady. When we lived in San Francisco I tried for years to grow houseplants and keep up with our beautiful little backyard. But no matter what I seemed to do, everything died. It got depressing after a while and I reached a point where I gave up on anything that didn’t grow on the wild. When we moved to the mountains to a house that is nearly always sunny, I decided I’d give being a plant lady another try. I started with one, then one more, and now both inside and out, our house looks like a plant lady paradise. I’m not sure what changed. The psychoanalyst in me says that our collective family energy is better processed now so everything that’s passed through the plants is mostly nourishment. But I also have a sneaking suspicion it’s all the sun and the crazy good soil. Whatever the reason I’m glad that it seems like for now at least I’ve got the hang of this whole green thumb thing.

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