Plant Mama
Everyone always talks about the joy of being a plant mama, the benefits of house plants on our mood, creativity, and the reduction of air pollutants… but what I never read about, and therefore didn’t expect, is the increased stress I’ve now introduced to my life.
9 months ago I only had one child to keep fed, watered and alive… now I have 23. TWENTY BLOODY THREE. Some gifted, some chosen, all with different needs and expectations. Luckily I have a handy app to keep track (though only useful for the plant babies and not the human one).
I guess I should have known. Why wouldn’t you feel a sense of dread at the sight of a yellowing leaf on a plant you’ve invested money and time in? Why wouldn’t the confusion of whether said yellow leaf was caused by over or under watering, too much or too little light, give you a headache?
The biggest nemesis by far has been our underfloor heating. You’re not supposed to have favourites, but two of mine are a Guiana Chestnut tree which was a housewarming gift from my mum, and a rubber plant I adopted from a neighbour. They’re both pretty sizeable and sit within pots that were placed directly on our floor in the kitchen and the first floor. This wasn’t an issue until the temperature dropped and our underfloor heating was put to work. Now, it’s a big issue.
Despite regular watering, misting and fertilisation, the underfloor heating has been baking the roots of my plants.. the poor babies! Leaves on both plants have been steadily yellowing, browning, and dropping over the last three baffling months. Once I narrowed down the issue to the under-floor heating, I raised the pots off from the floor (thank you non-heat conducting Yoga blocks), so I’m hoping (praying!) that this makes an impact. It may be okay for the Rubber Plant, the intervention may be its saviour, but the Guiana Chestnut tree looks so vulnerable and naked, and one of the thick trunks is definitely rotting. I fear that it is a lost cause and all that’s left is to witness its slow demise and eventually lay it to rest. But, I can’t give up and I’m going to give it one last shot at surviving by leaving it the hell alone which seems to be what it wants right now. I’m nervous… but alas, that’s the life I’ve taken on as mother to 22 plant children, so I just need to pull on my big mama pants and get on with it.
I’ll keep you posted.