Archive for October, 2002

“Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him!”

– Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche (1844-1900), German philosopher

I don’t feel like I have enough plants.  I see one that needs some love, one that catches my eye, one that is on sale, or one that I actually have to hunt for to see and I’m smitten.  I’m taken in by the various greens of the leaves, the shapes and textures of each plant calls to me.

I have some plants that I’ve had for over 15 years.  These plants have been through everything with me.  They have survived numerous moves, traveling in hot moving vans, passing through Arizona deserts, Colorado winters, California humidity, and everything in between.  Sometimes I’m amazed that they are still with me.

Other plants are special simply for the reasons that they’ve come to me.  I have one ficus rubber plant that is probably the most meaningful plant that I have.  It was given to my brother and his wife when my niece, Willow, was born.  My brother offered to me, claiming that his black thumb would surely kill it.  It was large when I got it, standing nearly 2 feet tall.  Now, 3 ½ years later, it stands nearly 4 feet tall.  It hasn’t been an easy relationship.  This plant is extremely picky about environment.  Leaves have folded in on themselves, leaves have dropped, and stems have become leggy.  It’s still around, though, and reminds me of Willow every time I look at it.

I currently have over 70 indoor plants.  I live in a small house of 545 square feet.  There is a plant everywhere I look.  My mom once said that I might as well turn my house into a greenhouse.  What I wouldn’t do for a greenhouse.  I don’t feel like I have enough plants, though.  Well, that’s not true.  I know I have more than enough plants for now (that’s why I need to buy a house!  Heh!).  It’s just…well…I go anywhere and I see a plant that calls to me and I think I need it.

They say my name.  “Come to me.”  They know they will be loved in my house.  Yes, yes…I’m applying human attributes to my plants (again with this anthropomorphizing!  :-)  ).

I have some amazing plants.  I have the stand-bys.  I have spider plants, dieffenbachia, pothos, arrowheads, and wandering jews.  I have a Chinese evergreen, an ivy that actually grows in a dry climate, palm trees, aloes, fuzzy Swedish ivy, and one called Silver Squill.

December is coming.  I think it’s time for the Arboretum’s fall sale.  Maybe some new plants will be making my home or office their home.

I can hope, can’t I?

Hobbies

Hobbies, for me, are one of the most delightful things in the world. They add to our lives, they make our time here much more rich. They allow us to explore venues that we would not, otherwise, be able to take part in because time wouldn’t allow beyond work, family, and other responsibilities.

In my life, I’ve been blessed with meeting many different people with a lot of varying skills. My father, since I was young, has been artistic. When we lived in Montana, he was a political cartoonist for the daily newspaper. He also did amazing metal work. He would make covered wagons, log cabins, Model-T’s and various other things out of tin cans, scrap metals, and bolts. He always carried a camera around, taking pictures of everything that was pleasing to him. His photographs have won awards at local fairs. People have offered him money for some of his images.

My brother, Todd, is an artist with his hands. He doesn’t throw pottery, fashion metal art, or work with wood. He works with automobiles, Jeeps, to be exact. He finds some old damaged, junked, wrecked Jeep and builds it back up to a beautiful showpiece that he can sell. He loves doing it. I can call his house nearly every night and find him answering the phone in the garage as he works on his newest acquisition.

The people I associate with most at work tend to be the most creative people around. I am drawn to them. They are gifted in many things ranging from writing to quilting to pottery. They share their gifts, their skills. They ask my opinion on their works. They ask for my input with new projects. They share their loves with me and it expands my life tenfold.

I think that I am like a mimic. I learn from everyone, picking up skills here and there. I write often, hoping that I am becoming better and knowing that this is what my heart seeks. I bead jewelry, a skill I learned 5 years ago when I had an empty summer afternoon in San Jose and a friend was ready to share. I’ve even sold some of my jewelry. To me, it’s a hobby. To others, though, it seems that these pieces are worth something. I have always loved photography. I take pictures of everything. I am rarely without a camera or two…or three. I have recently learned how to quilt and am loving it. I cross-stitch when I’m not busy with other things. I can’t remember a holiday when I didn’t give homemade gifts instead of store-bought gifts. I love music and own 6 different kinds of flutes. I make homemade cards to send to my niece with stories on them.

While I may be only mediocre at some of these skills, I’ve found that they all feed off of one another. One will be the impetus to get me to think in different ways for another. Can I incorporate beadwork into my quilting or cross-stitch? How can I get that green from a photo into the beadwork that I’m pulling together? What am I doing that can add to my stories for my niece? What will be the next adventure that I will embark upon to add more richness to my life? Maybe I will take up baking and canning. Hmm.