My Fairy Chair was the first plant that I ever bought. It has been the plant that has given me the confidence to truly believe that I can overcome the two-brown-thumbs that my mother passed down to me; try as she did to grow things–she never could. I guess you could say that I’m a plant lover because of The Fairy Chair. Before its existence , I never paid much attention to greenery. Now, I’m afraid that I might have to move Zack into the garage soon to make room for MORE IVY.
I have forever called said plant “The Fairy Chair” because its leaves look as if they could each host a fairy or two comfortably for several hours, perhaps as a Lazy-boy hosts me for several hours at a time whilst watching Oprah. I don’t know what it’s really called–not that I haven’t tried. For weeks now, Larry (the plant guy at work) and I have been trying to track down the ACTUAL NAME of my mysterious plant. We’re all, “well, it kinda looks like a variegated rubber plant, but not really, cause those leaves are a weird color.” And he’s like, “maybe it’s tropical,” and, “the blooms look like WHAT?” Needless to say, we’re still baffled. Not even Google knows what I mean when I search “fairy chair, plant, green, looks kind of like a rubber plant, but Larry doesn’t know what it is.”
And Google NEVER fails me.
So yesterday when Larry came to the office to water all the plants he asked me to bring him a clipping of the plant, because now he’s stumped every other plant-person he knows and nobody knows what it is, and now they are all spending poker night scratching their heads, and all those nickles are going to WASTE.
ALL THIS TO SAY:
When I got home from work yesterday, I was watering my plants when I saw the leaf. Of all the leaves on the fairy chair, my favorite one, the one I’d been swooning and marvelling over for at least 7 months finally gave up the ghost. The age of the grown-together leaf has officially come to a close.
Here’s the only bright side: I finally got to pull it apart. It was way more tenacious than you might imagine.
The Grown-Together Leaf in the height of its glory
The Grown-Together Leaf in the height of its window-sill photo shoot
