A Succulent Seduction
Strands of glorious green beads dangle down the side of a shelf.
Plush curves luxuriate in the sun.
Delectable rosettes of spiky leaves wink from a corner.
My heart slips, gulps, dives into their juicy seduction, and I stumble home in a love-daze with yet another plant.
A fat jade leaf, a precious tiny spiral of a chick, the elegant curve of the aloe.
I have a succulent problem.
The aloe drew me in, a housewarming gift from a friend. The long fat spikes multiplied until a forest of aloe plants crowded every table in our den.
A quick plundering of my mother’s garden the summer after we moved to North Carolina netted a Christmas Cactus that bloomed each year.
At work, my boss gave me a cutting of a jade plant with instructions. Set the cutting somewhere dry for a few days (up to a week?) to allow the wound to callous over. Pop it into soil and water lightly when you see the soil is dry. In four to six weeks, the plant forms roots and you have a whole new plant!
One divine plant from a free scrap. Water occasionally. The lazy housewife and cheap-ass bargain hunter in me fell as hard as the seeker of beauty.
The love affair that began with a simple “who doesn’t need an aloe for occasional sunburns?” intensified to “Is that a succulent scrap? Can I have it?”
When dealing with succulents, it’s always an open relationship.
During the move from North Carolina, I gave away all of the plants except the Christmas Cactus. Nancy, my father’s new wife, cared for that sweet baby all last summer, and saved another one that my mother had grown. When they came to visit last autumn, she brought both of them with her. They bloomed through the Christmas season and now sit on the patio, absorbing nutrients from the warm summer rains.
My obsession seemed to have gone into hibernation. But then…
Gui signed up for an allotment in the Cornell Garden Plots (two plots worth of garden!), and this spring, he and Monika headed over to the Cornell Plant Sale at the Ithaca Farmer’s Market Pavilion. I tagged along to see what I could find to add to the bounty.
We dove into the scrum of people swarming the individual growers and nurseries who sold all kinds of plants, trees and shrubs. My focus was on plants for my five-tier planter. This structure holds five oblong pots, two feet by six inches each, perfect for herbs, small salad veggies, and edible flowers. Nasturtiums, a rosemary and a thyme soon added themselves to my bag.
As I threaded my way through the crowd, a little voice called to me. I turned my head and a succulent with rose-shaped branch ends hooked my heart and reeled me in. She pointed out her friend, a String of Pearls. Those plants drape long stems over the side of their pots, bead-like leaves dotting the green lines like pearls on a necklace. Dazed and smiling, I babbled at the succulent salesman while he took my money.
When I got home, I decided that these would be it. After all, we’re in a rental. What am I doing getting houseplants?
The gathering of my luscious harem continued…
I went to Delhi to do some scouting for the Reading Retreat. That Wednesday morning, Kay (the owner of Birdy’s House) and I walked down to the local farmer’s market to enjoy the sights, meet people, and gather food.
The first succulent to catch my eye was a gorgeous little lady, one that formed an open crown of gray-blue leaves. She hid behind a bucket of bouquets in the midst of pots of swedish ivy and herbs. Promises were made. Money changed hands. She tucked herself into a small bag next to a jar of honey.
On our way out, a little pot leaped at me. Barely three inches high and filled with mini rosettes, some fully green and some edged with red.
Darling! You must come home with me! I will cherish you like the princess you are!
The owner of the stall had planted miniature succulents in all sorts of containers. This one was a little jewel of a clay pot with teeny tiny legs. And the bags that the vendor used were thick paper with a soft string handle like you find in a jewelry shop.
Once I arrived home, I handed the gray-blue globe to Gui and he put her on the back patio, joining the Christmas Cacti and the blossoming cactus he rescued from last year’s garden. I’m waiting to see if she starts to send out shoots or if I need to repot her in some way. The little jewel joined her on the patio but the Pearls and Rosy sit in the bedroom where I can easily see them from my pillow.
I’d like to say that I’ve gained control, that I can stop myself, that this polyamorous relationship I’m having with succulents isn’t taking over my life.
But when I was doing research for this piece, a subscription appeared on a random website. I blacked out for a moment and now a new piece of succulent love will show up on my doorstep each month.
I have a succulent problem.
And I’m not sorry at all.
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