I have a rather complicated relationship with my house plants. I love them dearly...the peacefulness they bring to my home, the clean(er) air that they provide, the splashes of color. And yet, I kill them - ruthlessly, and regularly. With the possible exceptions of my Great Aunt's fern that is a family heirloom at almost 90 years old, and the huge potted tropical that I spent too much money on to stomach offing, the rest of my lowly house plants really live in horrible conditions. I water them when I think of it - which means too often for those living over the kitchen sink, and not often enough for the rest of them scattered throughout the house. I fertilize them rarely, and too intensely when I do, leaving them either starved or burnt. As for remembering which particular type of care any given plant needs as compared to its neighbour, well, we won't even go there.
So every 6 months or so, I try to put aside some time to plead forgiveness, and shower my little pots of green with some tender loving care. New soil, larger pots, dividing and trimming as needed, a good watering, and some words of kindness. I have also found that succulents and cactus go along way to turning my black thumb green.
Ahhhh... much better.
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