06.08.00

No matter how hard I try, I can't keep houseplants alive. I've killed ferns, wandering jews, spider plants, philodendrons, corn plants, potted palms, ivy, ficus, cactus and a number of others. Once I even croaked some weed I had growing in a dixie cup, hidden in my bedroom when I was young enough to do things like that.

I don't know why this happens. I really like plants when I get them. They are verdant and lusty and bursting with life giving oxygen. I often talk to them on the way home after a purchase. I know plants like that sort of thing because I've seen it on TV and referenced numerous times in the lady's magazines. I say things like, "Hello Plant, you are beautiful and I'm so happy to be your friend," and "Watch yer dirt, sister! I'm making a sharp left here!"

I even sing along with the radio to them, "Feeeeeerry cross the Meeeeeeersey cause this laaaaaaaaaaaand's the place I love, and here I'll staaaaaaaaaaaay . . ." (Give me a break, my car radio's stuck on a 60's station, okay?)

The plants, all of them, last about a week, maybe two before they begin to shrivel or develop root rot. I'm pretty sure it's not the 60's tunes because sometimes I get that classic rock station.

I needed a low maintenance houseplant, nay, a NO maintenance houseplant. And (here's the point of this entry if you don't get it yet) I do believe I've found one.

Hidden deep in the crevasses of our pantry, there was a little potato who wanted to live. I don't know when he escaped, and I can't remember the last time I actually cooked a potato, let alone purchased one. Imagine my surprise when I found him three weeks ago, sprouting not just eyes, but tall and firm green shoots!

I grew him and I didn't even know it. I could hardly contain my pride. Finally, we have a houseplant!

He's not shy at all. As soon as I brought him into the light, he reveled in it and grew and grew. He's a hearty spud and his fresh green leaves now sport a lovely purple vein that is pleasing to eye. The best part is, I needn't water him or fertilize him or even turn him into the sun! I think he really likes me.

Yes, that's Nixon AND the Blessed Virgin watching out for my beloved tater tot. I'm not taking any chances here.

I'll update you periodically on his progress. (I'm having much more fun here now that that Pilates shit is gone.)

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