I began to think about plants, yet again, and it happened to be on Earth Day. I’d always been in awe of the New Yorker homes featured on Apartment Therapy, especially those that resemble urban jungle retreats. My question is: how do they manage? I struggle to keep whatever plants I have alive and these green finger people can have an entire forest growing from their bedrooms. It’s a strange wonder, that one.
For me, living in a tiny studio that’s burrowed deep in the city makes me covet lush greenery even more. When all you’d see are buildings and crowded highways, the first thing you’d want once you returned home is to just re-connect with nature. As I was about to move out, my grandma advised me to keep a few living things in our new apartment. She said plants would do so much good to the mind. The lady should know since she’s a passionate gardener. Ever since she moved to my mom’s place last year, the frontyard had been turned into a gorgeous, Amazonian-like tropic.
Had I inherited my grandma’s green thumb, I’d definitely have my studio looking like one stylish, built-in nursery. There had been a lot of trials and errors that happened along the way— so many of our plants perished but some managed to hold on to a thin thread of life. I learnt to look out for hardy plants that’d thrive in indoor conditions to bring home to. So after much deliberating, I thought I’d spruce up my studio once again while giving back to Mother Nature with a few new additions.
I’d been a fan of the cacti family and the ones that I bought had been pretty much sustainable as long as they get sufficient light at the windowsill. But I’d give the whole cactus obsession a rest. This time around, I decided to bring home a few succulents since I heard so much about them being sturdier plants. They resembled adorable green sculptures and their unassuming, miniature bodies actually shield them from Charlie’s sight. The cat is a notorious plant eater; I found him one fine morning trying to chomp down on those prickly cacti.
What I envisioned for our studio are oversized, dramatic plants— the ones that would flourish into intimidating tree-like canopies. That would certainly help to clear the indoor air. I bought a pot of palm tree, which has now become part of Charlie’s dessert, and a well-grown mother-in-law’s tongue that came straight from IKEA. I monitored them for a good few days and they seemed to be thriving in our living space. As for the mother’s-in-law’s tongue, it certainly lives up to its name (though luck would have it that N’s mom is hardly the stereotype).
And this mint. There was a time when we were into cooking so much that we wanted to have every single herb growing from our windowsill. We grew so many of them from scratch but alas, the ones that survived are our rosemary and this pot of mint. Even then, the mint was dying. We saved its life by getting rid of the browned leaves and fertilizing the soil before attempting to re-grow it. In its infancy, the mint only favored little sunlight but soon, it was growing solidly again. My not-so green fingers are now crossed that the others would do well the same.
