On Sunday, our neighborhood farmer’s market had its first run of the season. My partner and I really like our farmer’s market, and so we were excited to go. While we were there, we made the rather impulsive decision to buy a few little plants for our apartment.
We had a plant when we moved in. His name was Phil, and he was a philodendron. I’d gotten him back in college as a cutting from one of my grandmother’s plants.
Unfortunately, we don’t get a ton of natural light in our apartment, and I wasn’t great about finding him a good home. He died after a couple of months.
I’ve been wanting to get new plants ever since. I like growing things; my sophomore year of college I had a whole little grow-light setup in my dorm room, and I enjoyed tending to some of my mom’s garden when I lived with my parents.
So to keep this story from rambling further: we picked up plants, put them on the sill of our one free south-facing window, and are hoping for the best. Tuesday I bought some dirt and terracotta pots for them, and gave them each a new little home. They look so happy, and they’re making me super happy, too. Here’s hoping they thrive!