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malsperanzaIt's one of those days.
Not long ago, I bought a couple of bromeliads at the wholesale plant market. They are strange spidery fleshy creatures with brilliant violet, magenta, orange and yellow blooms that look something like a macaw flashing amongst Amazonian treetops and something like a very colorful penis. Ah, nature.
I bought them because they are epiphytes, plants that live stuck to the sides of trees in the rainforest, but are not parasites: they are harmless cohabitors. Ever since reading Cryptonomicon, I've been fascinated by epiphytes. I think an epiphyte is what I would like to be when I grow up.
I love my little bromeliads with a great love, and have been trying veryveryhard to remember to water them as often as they like, and in other ways to treat them well. But really, how much can you love a plant? I mean: It's a PLANT.
(OTOH, I love my cats, and they are veryveryplantlike. )
My night-blooming cereus seems to enjoy having the bromeliads around because it suddenly went and produced one of its unexpected late-night gigantic maneating blossoms the other night. I came home to that cheap-whorehouse scent, and the next morning the discarded flower was lying dead on the floor, pale pink-white and rubbery, like Camille after one too many coughing fits, or Tosca just after her last aria.
In the interests of not killing my bromeliads, I did a little googling for information about Tillandsias.
And found:
*A website called "Bush's Best Compost" (am in love with this website, for far too many reasons to name)
*A Tillandsia wholesaler's website that stated: "Tillandsias are perfect impulse-buys. Display near the cash register. They appeal to bird and reptile owners, and specialty plant collectors, such as orchid and cactus growers."
Well, it worked on me, even though I am no specialty plant collector. I mainly collect dead plants. And I detest orchids and cacti.
In fact, I only have the night-blooming cereus because... well, say the name aloud sometime.
So I guess that means I am a bird and reptile owner. Who knew? Must remember to tell the cats. I fear they will be unnerved by the news. But then, most things unnerve them anyway.
All this bright new knowledge, purely because I have been procrastinating and should have been writing this odious, useless annual fiscal-year-end report.
Not long ago, I bought a couple of bromeliads at the wholesale plant market. They are strange spidery fleshy creatures with brilliant violet, magenta, orange and yellow blooms that look something like a macaw flashing amongst Amazonian treetops and something like a very colorful penis. Ah, nature.
I bought them because they are epiphytes, plants that live stuck to the sides of trees in the rainforest, but are not parasites: they are harmless cohabitors. Ever since reading Cryptonomicon, I've been fascinated by epiphytes. I think an epiphyte is what I would like to be when I grow up.
I love my little bromeliads with a great love, and have been trying veryveryhard to remember to water them as often as they like, and in other ways to treat them well. But really, how much can you love a plant? I mean: It's a PLANT.
(OTOH, I love my cats, and they are veryveryplantlike. )
My night-blooming cereus seems to enjoy having the bromeliads around because it suddenly went and produced one of its unexpected late-night gigantic maneating blossoms the other night. I came home to that cheap-whorehouse scent, and the next morning the discarded flower was lying dead on the floor, pale pink-white and rubbery, like Camille after one too many coughing fits, or Tosca just after her last aria.
In the interests of not killing my bromeliads, I did a little googling for information about Tillandsias.
And found:
*A website called "Bush's Best Compost" (am in love with this website, for far too many reasons to name)
*A Tillandsia wholesaler's website that stated: "Tillandsias are perfect impulse-buys. Display near the cash register. They appeal to bird and reptile owners, and specialty plant collectors, such as orchid and cactus growers."
Well, it worked on me, even though I am no specialty plant collector. I mainly collect dead plants. And I detest orchids and cacti.
In fact, I only have the night-blooming cereus because... well, say the name aloud sometime.
So I guess that means I am a bird and reptile owner. Who knew? Must remember to tell the cats. I fear they will be unnerved by the news. But then, most things unnerve them anyway.
All this bright new knowledge, purely because I have been procrastinating and should have been writing this odious, useless annual fiscal-year-end report.
