My fellow chicks and I write about murder. We would absolutely NEVER consider killing someone in real life. (I think?) But when it comes to plants, if their death was considered a punishable crime, I’d be charged with involuntary manslaughter.
I was recently a keynote speaker for a local nonprofit that supports pediatric orthopedics. It was a wonderful event, and the hosts gifted me with a beautiful plant at the end of it.
This is the plant’s status at the moment. Flower gone. Leaves clinging on for dear life:

I’m great at needlepointing plants. But give them life? That’s another story. I was thrilled when I received two wax amaryllis plants for Christmas. They’re totally new to me and they are magical. You set them down, ignore them, and then one day… Ta da!

I thought I’d found the perfect plant for a black thumb like me. Sadly, this is what they look like now:

I tend to anthropormorphatize non-living things – and yes, Spellcheck, I know that’s not a real word – so I feel personally responsible for any plant that bites the dust under my care.
Yet there are two plants in our house that despite all odds, continue to thrive. They’re easily over a decade old. Maybe even older. The nursery where I bought them was torn down years ago, replaced by a giant apartment complex. When I leave the house now, I have to duck out of the way of the one on the right, which has started to grow by toward the sun coming through the front door…


I love these guys. They are my plant children.
There’s a metaphor here somewhere. About resilience. About survival. About reaching for the light and standing strong in the face of someone who at best manages to water you every three weeks. I will look to these hardy specimens for inspiration during the tough times.
But these two sturdy beauties are the exception at Chez By-Rem, and not the rule. So, do flora a favor and don’t gift me with any form of plant life. Odds are that it will not end well for them.
Readers, where do you stand on plants? Green thumb? Black thumb? And do you have a better metaphor than me?

Definitely a black thumb. Plants look at me and say, nooooo.
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LOL!
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Dru, lol! Must be us city gals.
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My old boss used to smoke in her closed office, and she swore her many, thriving plants loved it. When she went on vacay, I was charged with watering them. Upon her return in a week, they were all nearly dead. They do love smoke.
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Wow. Now that’s a plot twist.
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Haha!
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A green thumb. I find taking care of house plants therapeutic. I love discussing my story plots with them.
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Awww, that’s so sweet. As your plants grow, so do your plots!
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Nice writing partners!
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LOL! My favorites so far.
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You are magic!
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Olivia!!! I think the same of you.
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❤️❤️❤️
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Love this, Patricia! I talked to plants and played music to them as a school science project once. They were fans.
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Lisa! That’s so lovely!
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Maybe I need to start doing that. Do they help you with your messy middle?
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Absolutely. One needs thick skin, though. They can get quite judgy.
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Ha!
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In the defense of all thumbs, I always say I did not inherit the farmer gene that runs through my mother’s family. That said, there were places I lived where my plants thrived, no real credit to me or my thumbs! My current house is not the best for most plants. It’s either too hot or too cold where the light is good and not enough light where the temperature is good, so I blame the environment, not my poor thumbs! I have two that are surviving at the moment, will see how they are by Christmas! Meanwhile, enjoy your hardy duo!
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I will! And give us an update around Christmas on your two.
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I like this idea that it’s the surrounding environment that’s the problem… 🙂
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I could very easily be convicted of involuntary manslaughter of a plant. I don’t mean to. I swear. But it happens. I even managed to kill a cactus.
I do, however, have three flourishing now. A succulent (although it sheds lower leaves and I occasionally have to clip, put it in water, and repot the top continues to grow), a star aloe, and a regular aloe. I even managed to revive the last one when The Hubby overwatered it. It recently had a bad fall (it’s massive and top-heavy, so it fell off the shelf), but I think I managed to re-pot and save it. Maybe. We’ll see.
But don’t give me anything that flowers!
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Liz, I think you’re selling yourself short! Clipping? Repotting? I’m impressed.
Growing up, Mom always kept an aloe Vera plant on hand. You reminded me that it’s the one plant I should actually invest in.
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I actually find cactus rather difficult to nurture–too much water? Too little? I never know.
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I’m in the same boat! I was given a plant at a book event once and my thought was “poor plant!” But somehow, against all odds, 3 years later and it’s thriving. It’s so much prettier (and quieter) than my old air purifier, too.
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Olivia, I’m impressed! Three years is a lot.
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Woohoo!
P.S. Is this the type of plant that’s in your Ruby and Cordelia series?
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She makes a cameo in book 3 (Oct 26) and I call her Cordelia 👻
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I love to have plants in the house and I take fairly good care of them. But my rule is that if you can’t live here, you can’t live here. I grow plants that I can grow. I think it’s anthropomorphize. But yours works, too.
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Kaye, I have a feeling your plants respect you!
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I love plants, Ellen, but end up killing them in short order. One time, I even managed to kill a cactus. That’s when I gave up.
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Ha! You are not alone. The only reason cacti survive here is because they’re outside. Not inside, to die on my watch!
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I like the idea of plants but definitely have a black thumb. Sadly, my mom did not pass down any of her amazing gardening skills to me.
Currently, there are only three survivors: 1. a money plant on its last legs (hopefully not a predictor of my future financial state), 2. a spindly bamboo plant that’s attempting to reach the ceiling, and 3. a moss ball plant (look up “kokedama”).
One of my daughters recently got one of those LEGO plants–maybe that’s the kind of plant I should get!
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Ha! I have a friend who has Lego plants all over her house!
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My mother had silk flowers, very big back in the day. But also, that sturdy aloe vera plant.
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Plants that come into my orbit die. Especially indoor plants. I did okay for a while with plants on my balcony until a squirrel decided to bury nuts neighbors were giving him in my planters, thereby killing my plants. After battling for a couple of years, I’ve given up. Which is a shame because I really liked having those plants on my balcony.
Anyway, after a good first month or two, I start forgetting to water my plants. Or I over water. And I think I keep my condo too warm for most plants.
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I love that squirrel image! When I had an apartment, I tried growing herbs on the balcony. #epicfail
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Many years ago my husband and I were diagnosed with allergies to mold; that was when we gave up indoor house plants (potting soil tends to promulgate mold growth). The outdoor vegetable garden did okay but we’ve since moved house and this one doesn’t have a backyard that’s been amended so is not good for much but tumble weeds (we live in the high desert of CA, the Mojave).
If you need Aloe Vera and aren’t a plant person get some Urtica Urens unguent. This is a homeopathic remedy, is widely available OTC or via ordering online, and our family finds it vastly superior to A.V. for relieving the pain of burns AND healing the wounded skin.
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Mary, thanks so much for the great advice. I’ll look into Urtica Urens. And I know the region where you live. Definitely tumbleweed territory!
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El, love this post! FYI, tEasy Plant sends you unkillable plants in pretty pots with a self-watering system. Once a month, you put new water in. Yay? I’m currently nursing 2 tiny succulent favors from my daughter’s wedding in 2018. One is still doing great. The other I’m praying for. I also have 3 Norfolk potted pines that have grown from teensy cute babies to giants rapidly growing to the very high ceiling in our sun room. (It’s too cold in NH to plant them outside.) I decorate them at Christmas. I also have a GIANT peace plant gifted by my fellow Chicks in 2016 that lives in my bathroom all winter to protect it from frigid air. I call her Audrey. My true success, though? Shamrocks! #nofail
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Norfolk pines were used for sailing ship masts, so yes, they can grow VERY tall!
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Uh-oh. I’ll have to cut a hole in our roof.
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We’ve gotten out of the habit of indoor plants, even if they don’t need soil. If we ever take them up again, this sounds good!
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I’m so impressed, Lisa! And I LOVE Norfolk Pines.
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Indoor plants–not so great with them. But I do have success with outdoor gardening, especially here in Hilo where everything grows like Jack’s beanstalk. But alas, that means gardening here is mostly about weeding, of which I am not so much a fan.
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Ugh, HATE weeding! But LOVE Hawaiian flora.
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My mom was so good with plants but I didn’t inherit her green thumb. Living in my house isn’t automatically a death sentence for a plants, but I have learned that some plants are easier than others. My point? It’s not your fault!
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Thank you! I feel better. Or… a little less guilty for being guilty of plantslaughter. OOH, good one, Ellen!
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shoot. I can kill a plastic plant
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