During the first lockdown our daughter came back home to stay for a couple of months whilst she was furloughed. Along with her came at least a dozen pot plants. Sadly her larger ones that had to be left behind didn’t make it.
Whilst she was at ours she decided to do something constructive so undertook a free on line course about houseplants. She really got into it and every time we went for our daily exercise walk she’d talk about various types of plants and where they’re from and best suited etc. And every time we went anywhere near a shop she’d buy another plant. Even from the supermarket when doing the food shopping. Soon our house was getting over run.
For the last couple of years she’s given me plants for birthday, Christmas and Mothering Sunday. They usually come accompanied by a small piece of paper with hand written information about the plant. And some even have names. Howard the aspidistra is a firm favourite along with Monica the Japonica.
For Christmas we couldn’t spend the time together as we’d hoped so she sent our presents directly. Then she was concerned that the main present wouldn’t arrive in time so sent another one by next day delivery. Well, they both arrived in time and of course were both pot plants.
She’d even paid extra for a lovely outer pot for one of them which according to what she’d been told would be big enough. Well of course it wasn’t, but no matter, we can use it for a different plant instead.
Anyway, one of the plants already seems a bit pot bound and is distorting the shape of the pot its in, so we need to repot it.
His nibs decided that we would use our daily exercise to walk to B&Q to get some new pots and more potting compost. Sounds like a good plan. Kill two birds with one stone. It was only 2 degrees outside so I got dressed up in my big winter coat, hat, scarf and gloves.
Started off ok, nice pace, nippy around the edges but not too bad. Now B&Q isn’t exactly around the corner. The round trip there and back was 6.7 miles and took us 2 hours 22 minutes. And on the way back I was carrying the compost.
By the time we’d almost got home, my arms felt like they were going to drop off, my legs were giving up and I was actually now incredibly warm.
Just for a ruddy pot. This plant better like its new home once its been repotted. I for one can’t move now.
One thought on “Going Potty”
Brilliant, that’s proper made me chuckle this morning 😄