For a Gardener, I Make a Good Writer

Except for a glorious ginkgo tree, a one-time upwelling of California poppies and a Texas Mammillaria cactus named Molly Ivins, I am not known for my green thumb. In fact, when it comes to tending plants, I seem to be all thumbs, and do not excel at what others find so easy.

For Mother’s Day, I boldly treated myself to four succulents (Flapjack, Fiesta, Letizia and one anonymous variety) and three teeny barrel cacti. I bought special cactus potting soil, listened carefully to planting instructions from the woman at the garden shop and made a lovely home for my new plants in a beautiful blue pot that lives on my balcony 13 stories up in San Francisco.

We were all very happy together for seven weeks or so, when I noticed weird little black spots on the plants. It was a busy time for me, and I decided “watchful waiting” was the lazy course I’d take. I waited. I watched. Then little white spots appeared on some of the succulents.

 

Ten days ago, my son diagnosed the white spots as aphids. He did a lot of research and showed me magnified photos of the pests. (Ewwww…) He also proposed some options, which included everything from cleaning the plants with soap to learning to live with aphids as part of the natural world to moving the pot to the other end of the balcony where I couldn’t see it and so would fret less. 

I did further research. “Spray the plants with soapy water,” one friend said. (I don’t own a spray bottle.) “Aim a forceful stream of water at the plants,” counseled one website. (I don’t own a hose and the balcony has no faucet.) “Throw them all out,” said one wag who has no tolerance for tending plants. (I considered it.)

 

One website said the black spots might be from too much sun — or too little. An expert at the garden shop, reached by phone, suggested that the high winds San Francisco often experiences may have stressed out my succulents, and that made them easy targets for aphids. He offered to sell me a container of 750 ladybugs (!), as they eat aphids. When I asked if the ladybugs might not all fly away home when released from the container, he admitted that was a possibility.

 

Next I read that aphids hate the smell of banana peels. (Was this an insight generated during a focus group?) I peeled a banana, made a fruit smoothie for myself and then draped the peels atop the soil in the pot. Two days later, the peels were black and the plants looked worse. I donned my gardening gloves (surprise— I own a pair!) and dumped everything in the compost except the barrel cactus triplets.

Maybe I imagined it, but when I popped the cacti into a cheap plastic pot of their own, I thought I heard them sigh with relief. Four days later, all three are bigger — taller and wider. I’ve bought them a pretty pot that's slightly bigger,  but it may not do the job for long. I just read that barrel cacti can grow up to 3 feet tall. Oh, and their lifespan is 50-100 years!

Now my pretty blue pot is empty once again. When I first got it, I planted geraniums, which were so joyful and seemed so happy on the balcony.  Over time, the geraniums got a fungus. I bought a special spray at the garden shop and tried gently wiping each leaf, top and bottom. I was patient for maybe two days, at which point I decided life is too short to sit around cleaning geranium leaves. I tossed the plants and started over. Alas, fungus arrived soon after, and I had to throw out those plants too.

Shortly after, I was on the verge of tossing some stringy poppy plants I’d started from seed in a tin pot. (It was a gift; I had to try it.) Instead, I moved the poppies to the really big pot that holds my ginkgo tree. Soon, I had 2-foot tall poppies! When they faded, I thanked the ginkgo for being such a good host, pulled out the poppies and moved on.

For now, I've put the pot in the corner of the balcony. I turned it upside down, because a few months ago, two pigeons were arguing out there over who would build a nest inside the pot and take up residence. One had even brought some building supplies. I yelled at the pigeons, dumped out the pot and flipped it over.

Even though I'd rejected his offer to sell me 750 ladybugs (wait — who counts them?), the guy at the garden shop told me that barrel cacti stand up to wind and they thrive on being ignored. Good, because this may be may be my last attempt at caring for plants. If so, I guess I’ll have to find another hobby. 

Don’t suggest I do crafts — the only thing I can make is paragraphs. 

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