Okay, I accept that walking in the forest, on a grassy mountain or at a sandy beach feels great. The sun on your face, wind through your hairs and fresh air in your lungs. But what I have never really understood, is why people insist on trying to bring it inside the house.
When I was small, my parents tried to ensure I would be a devoted garden girl. It failed miserably. I dutifully pulled out weeds and tore grasses from in between tiles and watered some greenery. But after getting one plant and having it die on me within 2 months, I was away for 2 weeks and nobody watered it for me, I quickly decided this was way too high maintenance for me.
Since then, I have never had any plants in my house. I remember clearly that a few years ago my mom gave me a plant, which slightly offended me even as if she did not know I would never want such a thing, before I realized it was fake to my huge relief. I lived a blissful life without any plants in the house, up ’till a few years ago.
My current partner likes plants. He even rescued a plant from my former roommate whose plants were sort of perpetually dying. He gets happy when his flowers bloom, new roots grow and trims his plants lovingly. And he tries to sneak in more plants if I let down my guard. Luckily, I am always on high alert.
When he was on holiday for a month last year, I needed to actively remind myself that the plants needed water. It was quite the stress. Also, we now sometimes have annoying flies in the house, although that is good to train my motor skills I guess.
Moving to our new place last year, we even got some plants from friends. Where I would normally have to donate these to my parents or bring them to a plant shelter, they could actually get spot somewhere in our new home. All in all, I am not complaining and I know it is a luxury that I can be surrounded by plants without having to do something for it. But watering the plants spontaneously? I am not a plant mom.
Bitesized Writing 