Hi there. We haven’t met yet. It’s possible, though, that some stories have been passed down generations from your forefathers - tales of horror and neglect. Tales, that might involve me. I might have killed them.
IT WAS AN ACCIDENT.
I need you to know, if you wind up hanging in my living room, or perched above a cupboard in my kitchen, I will do my best to keep you happy. I will water you (but not too much), I will give you sunlight (depending on what kind of plant you are) and I will sing to you (I offer no caveats to this one).
Thanks to Instagram, I see pictures of people’s homes regularly now, and I find myself pining (FOLIAGE PUN) to have greenery in my home. It looks so soothing and inviting. It says, “Hey, c’mon over. We can keep things alive in our home. We are safe people. We probably have wine or kombucha or know a thing or two about tea.”
I would like to be one of those people.
I mean, I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but having you in my home would be so beneficial. For starters, priority one for me is the potential you will improve my mood. As a person who lives with a mood disorder in addition to anxiety and panic, any help I can get to keep my spirits up is enthusiastically welcomed. So, please, help me.
Another great reason to invite you into my home is that you will improve the air quality. After doing intensive research (read: Google), I learned that having indoor plants will increase humidity in the home, reduce carbon dioxide, reduce airborne dust particles, and keep the air temperature down. YOU ARE SO IMPRESSIVE. I mean, seriously. Check you out.
ALSO! Did you know that you can actually help my sound sensitivity? YOU CAN! I was just complaining about this last night, as a matter of fact. When my mood goes south, my ability to handle more than one noise at a time becomes more or less impossible. And there is a slight chance that impacts how much of a jerk I am to others. That live under the same roof. Who love me. Granted, this probably means I have to surround myself with lots of you and pretend I live in a jungle, but I’m willing to try it if you are.
There are other reasons to love you, I know. I mean, you know, too. We know together. And I understand your reluctance to become members of my family. I swear, though, this time I am going to try harder. I’ve already visited a plant nursery and purchased a spider plant (who has yet to be named). Granted, I didn’t offer him a chance to yay or nay the idea, but so far, he seems happy.
Shout-out to the folks who work at Hilltop Gardens. They were super patient with me and even told me not to buy outdoor plants until closer to Mother’s Day, because Colorado. See? I have support!
I want us to be friends. I want you to trust me. I watched an episode of NCIS yesterday where Eleanor Bishop was trying to revive one of Ziva’s plants she had left behind. I want to give you that kind of love and attention. Granted, the plant Eleanor wanted to bring back to life was beyond saving, but that’s not the point! Her heart was in the right place, as is mine.
So, please, give me a chance. I’ll be good this time, I swear. I’ll make it easier to be green.
I’m sorry for that last line. I have no excuse.
If you need more wooing, lemme know.
Also, I’m determined to learn macrame. That really has nothing to do with you directly, but having you in my home will certainly encourage me to get on that sooner rather than later.