I killed the last of my potted plants. It wasn't intentional,
it was apathetic neglect.
I once had beautiful, healthy, green plants that I took pride in -- Ficus trees, norfolk island pines, peace lillies, ferns, cyclamen, palms, etc. I'm not sure what has shifted in me over the last few years that I have let them die . One by one, they withered and shriveled in pots too small, with dirt much too dry.
I'm feeling quite guilty. Am I reading too much into this? I'm feeling that not being able to care for (i.e. *water*) some plants is a direct indication that my life is unmanageable. For God's sake, I should at least be able to keep a low maintenance peace lily alive. The last plant to go was in fact a peace lily. I left it out on the deck in the freezing air because I was too lazy to bring it back in.
Do you have house plants? Are they part of your decor? Do you find them to detract or enhance your living spaces? Do you find them to be a burden or a joy?
update: *apologies* -- I completely forgot to cite the photos.