These two African violets and the spider plant go to the Princess’s best friend, who loves plants almost as much as I do. I’ve since brushed the growing medium off the violets’ leaves and sung a happy little welcoming song to them, and the spider plant has been getting daily encouragement to sink its roots into new soil–it was part of a very large duet in a very small pot, and is much happier now.
I had a hideous headache for most of yesterday, one I’m not calling a migraine only because there was no aura before it struck and I could still eat in very small bites through its claws. Even getting out into the garden and dealing with the compost pile didn’t help, although I got two very full wheelbarrows of black gold wriggling with worms.
The world is on fire and my heart hurts. But the dogs still need walks, and the garden still needs tending, and the houseplants need to be dusted, sung to, and trimmed. Those under my aegis still need to be fed. There’s no time to feel the twisting in my chest, mostly, and for that I’m grateful. When I’m working to conserve and protect, I don’t feel the sadness as much.
I wish you a pleasant weekend, my chickadees, and the peace to flower where you’re planted. Even if one is uprooted and placed elsewhere.