Monday, January 28, 2008

Digging Deep

I spent a good part of Saturday tending to these plants. I brought them inside as the first threats of frost knocked on the door. All of these plants have been transported, transplanted if you will, from FW. So, they carry  a twisted  kind of sweet sentiment inside of me. Especially the Patchouli plant.

I love that plant. I purchased it from a small nursery I found only days before moving South. I had never seen a Patchouli plant before. It came in a four inch pot and I grew it to a monster of a plant, at least eighteen inches high. It smells so good! At the height of summer the scent would drift around the back patio, mingled with those pesky roses. If you crushed the leaves in between your fingers....oh heaven!

Why is it that I fussed over it with a dedication that rivaled my determination to not let those 21 rose bushes fade away. Yet, when I brought it inside I began to neglect it. First of all, I was not sure when to water it. It never drooped and after a blistering summer in the relentless heat and sunshine I thought a respite in the south window would be the best thing for it. I have no idea if this is a plant that would fade away and die with the shortening of the days. I just had to wait and see.

It least the shortened days, it has not survived me and my becoming distracted over these gray and dreary days.

I noticed it was looking puny and upon closer inspection discovered it had some sort of fungus or something gross on quite a few of the stems and on several of the leaves. Out came the warm soapy water and an hour or more of washing, rinsing and trimming.

I had to redo it yesterday, and I shall examine it again today.

Incidentally this whole ordeal corresponded with a spat I had with J.

As I sat and tenderly worked with the Patchcouli plant I realized the significance of a lesson that was being presented to me by two different messengers.

It is an easy thing to stop looking closely at things/people. It is an easy thing to be unaware of certain signs that are there if you choose to over look them. It is easy to be distracted and maybe even unresponsive when you look the other way. Maybe you can become insensitive when you least expect to be.

The lesson I learned is that you can never ever take anything for granted.



coy1234787 said...

Good lesson ...
good luck with the patchouli,
good luck with J
  *** Coy ***

sunnyside46 said...

I never knew there was a patchouli plant either.
you are a wise woamn to listen to what life tells you

mlraminiak said...

...A lesson we have to learn over and over again throughout our lives.  Lisa  :-]

suzypwr said...

Wow, your plant was talking to you - and very sensibly, too!


chatalicious said...

I never knew there was a patchouli plant but the smell of the oil is a throwback to the days of my teenage years. I work with someone who still wears it. Not sure where you can find it anymore. So many plants are vulnerable to fungus. Last year I had a huge bed of gorgeous lillies. One day I saw flies swarming and a closer look showed some kind of fungus had invaded them and they were rapidly dieing. Throughout years I have the revelation time and time again that we should never take people for granted. However, everyday life takes over again and now and then we need to have the reality of that hit us once more. Right now, I am so guilty of that. Working 45 hours a week and not giving my husband the attention he deserves. I wish jobs didn't take over so much of our lives. The money is great but I feel I am sacrificing so much to have it, I wrestle with that.
Hope J and the plant are soon thriving again,