Vi and Letty

Last fall my mother, sister, and I went to a perennial swap at my brother and sister-in-law's house. It was a hot Sunday afternoon and that was about the last thing I felt like doing. Robbie had just left that morning on a week-long business trip, the next day was Monday so it was back to work, back to school for Ky, back to our busy lives but with just me at home to do everything. The thought of going to a perennial swap and bringing home yet another thing that needed to be cared for was not even remotely appealing. Like there was even a chance that I would get to plant whatever I brought home before it died! But, being the good little sister that I am I dug up some pieces of my perennials to contribute, made my platter of peanut butter cups, loaded the kids into the van and went on my merry way.

It was early in my pregnancy with Bella, and since we hadn't told anyone yet I politely accepted the Sangria that Gail, my sister-in-law, offered. After a few tiny sips I was able to sit the cup down discreetly on the table and abandon it there. Despite my reluctance to go, the time passed quickly and it was a nice afternoon. The kids had fun jumping on the trampoline with their cousins and eating all the good food that Floyd and Gail had prepared. I had a nice time hanging out and talking with my family and Gail's friends. As the gathering started to wind down Gail decided it was time for people to pick what they wanted to take home for perennials. I hung back, determined to leave empty handed. While I was happy to contribute a plant, I really had no desire to take one home. As far as I could tell it would just be another thing on my "to-do" list, which was the last thing I needed that week.

As the swap was winding down Gail was surveying who got what, and said "Hey Eed, you didn't get anything, here, take this" (note: "Eed" rhymes with weed and is what most of my family calls me) and attempted to hand me what looked like some half dead weed in desperate need of tender loving care. I politely declined, citing my already long enough "to-do" list and traveling husband as the reason I had chosen to leave empty handed. Gail, however, was determined that nobody would leave empty handed. She finally insisted that I at least take an african violet as it was already potted and wouldn't require much attention at all. Since it meant so much to her I took the plant, figuring it was little so it wouldn't take up much room in the trash, which, given my history with african violets, is where it would inevitably end up.

On the way home my wonderful Mom insisted that I also take the african violet that had been pressed upon her, citing her penchant for killing the poor unsuspecting houseplants as well. I couldn't stand the thought of watching these innocent plants wither and die at home, so I placed each of them in a Winnie-the-Pooh mug and took them to work (at least that way I would only have to witness their suffering three times a week). Once we got to my office I placed them on the windowsill and enjoyed the beautiful purple flowers that had opened soon after I got them. Each week I would water them, looking carefully for signs of their impending doom. All through the winter they sat on my windowsill, even on the days when it was below zero outside and the windows had ice on the inside.

While the plants didn't die, neither did they thrive. They appeared to be just surviving, in some sort of african violet limbo, their leaves getting bigger and less green by the month. Finally about a month ago I decided they looked sickly enough that it was time to end their suffering. I removed them from my windowsill, and as I started to take them out of the Winnie-the-Pooh mugs that had been their homes I was amazed. There, in the center of each plant were healthy looking new green leaves. Even more amazing, hidden in the midst of the leaves were little buds that held the promise of producing more beautiful purple flowers. In an effort to let the plants direct all their energy to the promising new growth I pinched off the big yellowed leaves around the outside and placed them back in window.

Now my windowsill is the proud home of Vi and Letty and their gorgeous blooms. They each boast at least a dozen brilliant purple flowers, most of which are as big around as quarters. The darned plants are beautiful, and I'm hooked. Despite my best intentions I did come away from the swap with something else to care for, something else to care about. Now that I have sustained the plants and watched them bloom again I want them to live, to continue blooming, to keep being another thing on my "to-do" list.