Got all the plants inside, with the exceptions of a few casualties. Sad to see the succulents turn from a healthy turgid puffiness to one-step-away-from-putrefying liquid, but you can’t win ’em all. There were some pots on my sister’s back deck that I forgot about. I still haven’t even checked on them, but after the 5 below zero weather we had last week I can assume they are goners. Oh, well, they were nice while they lasted.
I have to get over this feeling I have about plants, that they have human qualities. I was fairly ruthless this week, cutting back my woody geraniums by 50%. I almost always try to save the tips to root, but this time I just dropped them onto a pile of compost.
It kills me to do this. I can just imagine the tiny little screams as I drop them onto the pile. I get visions of the pauper’s burial in Amadeus where Mozart gets dropped onto the open public grave. Ridiculous to feel bad about this process though. Repeat after me, Sarah: they are not sentient beings, they are not sentient beings. But I still feel a bit like a murderer when I prune.
Anyway, 97% of my non-hardy pot plants are indoors and ready for a bit of dormancy. Some of them will live in the front porch. It’s not insulated, but has south facing windows. Some heat from the hallway spills out and stops them from freezing on the coldest nights. (In theory) They stay pretty healthy because they are somewhat cool, and somewhat moist. No forced hot air blowing right on them.
Because I don’t have quite enough room in the front porch, 2 or 3 plants will be wintering in the Arizona-like climate of my apartment. It’s very hot, dry, and fairly sunny. They won’t like it, particularly. But they’ll make it through the winter.
Sort of like me, in that respect.