They say you haven’t really gotten to know a plant until you have killed it at least three times. Well, it doesn’t take me that much effort. As actor W.C. Fields once put it, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again – then quit; no use being a fool about it.”
And nowhere is this more evident than in my potted plants, some of which have suffered under my hit-or-miss care for decades. But the few dozen survivors are silent reminders of the many others which never had a chance under my brown thumb.
For example, when my Pike County grandmother Louise Felder Rushing, an avid garden club member, passed away, I took on her blue-ribbon collection of African violets and orchids. Within just a few months most of her lovelies shriveled and died. All that’s left of Mamaw’s plant legacy are a few collectable McCoy pots and her sturdy plant stand, which now supports several dozen less fussy succulents.
It isn’t like I didn’t know how to grow African violets, or that they are super difficult; they were in well-drained potting soil, set atop moist gravel for humidity, dosed with small amounts of fertilizer, and kept warm in filtered bright light. But they also required steady attention to watering, which for various reasons I was unable to provide consistently. So they withered away.
And I earned my share of flower show ribbons, including a prized one from an English flower show. It’s simply a matter of providing plants everything they need. Everything. Consistently.
Took me awhile to accept inconsistent watering as a personal limitation, but eventually, pushing my horticultural ego out of the way, I simply modified my plant choices accordingly. Can’t grow African violets Felder? Try something else that doesn’t need as much attention.
Most of my indoor potted plants these days are succulents like dwarf prickly pear, compact agaves, trailing sedums, gray-leaf hens and chicks (Graptopetalum), various aloes, Euphorbias, yuccas, devil’s backbone, and Sansevierias, the most commonly grown of which is called both snake plant and mother-in-law tongue. Because all these plants store moisture in their plump leaves, they can go bone dry for weeks or months without shedding a leaf. Right up my ability’s alley.
I actually specialize in Sansevierias, including some with huge beaver tail leaves, some with long cylindrical carrot-like leaves, and many variegated types. My fave is called “walking Sansevieria” because its main body, stubby and with very pointed leaves, grows atop sturdy, stem-like stilt roots that hold it several inches above the soil; new plants produced on above-ground rhizomes appear to be walking away in every direction.
I know these bizarre plants aren’t as sweet as African violets, but after amassing a big collection, they have become quite endearing. And are durable.
So, faced with decades of mounting failures, I accepted that my personal limitations mean I can’t grow all my horti-heart desires. I have winnowed my collections down to what fits my own abilities, and in the process honed less tangible garden skills like paying a bit more attention to plants, treating them like living creatures subjected to a nonstop barrage of environmental and horticultural variables instead of ignoring them like stone-cold statuary. Making sure they are doing okay before serious symptoms show up.
That’s what a “green thumb” is. As with many other occupations, it ain’t what you know that counts, it’s what you actually do. Walk the walk, don’t just talk the talk.
Time to stop killing good plants with needs beyond my actual abilities, and switch to plants I can actually grow. Bring on the less-finicky succulents!
Felder Rushing is a Mississippi author, columnist, and host of the Gestalt Gardener on MPB Think Radio. Email gardening questions to rushingfelder@yahoo.com.
