It's a well-known fact around here that I do not do
plants. I killed a jade plant
...three times. That's supposed to be nigh unto impossible. And I've done it thrice. Oops.
However, I grew up with a very specific set of plants in my yard. I miss them. All through my childhood, I had a dogwood tree right outside my bedroom window, with bright pink-fuchsia blossoms, and several spirea, or "bridal veil" bushes that made perfect little "secret forts," because of the high-arcing branches and thick cascades of tiny white blossoms.
Ever since we moved in, my mom has been talking about getting a couple spirea shrubs or maybe a dogwood tree. It's been almost ten years now, and we still do not have either.
So I bought two brightly-glazed gorgeous ceramic pots at work today. They're on the large side for pots (very heavy), though not as big as what we're calling "urns" this year. I found a really affordable nursery that sells online; I'm ordering some shrubbery. They'll live in pots for a while because they ship small, and obviously I can't plant them right now
, as it is currently twenty-three degrees out and there are six inches of snow on the ground.
I might be asking for trouble, but I have a lot of enthusiasm for the plan right now. And it's kind of like the French regimental in that a gauntlet has been thrown. Several poor souls at work foolishly told me I couldn't do it--so now it's simply got to happen. And it has to happen right
, which means that I am not allowed to end up with dead plants this time.