When I was a little, I remember my grandmother’s plant stash filling the rear of her home, and my mother had a Pothos on top of the refrigerator that reached to the floor. My mother always had a range of philodendrons propagated in glasses of water, and we grew miniature bushes from sweet potato scraps after Thanksgiving. My split leaf actually belonged to my grandmother before I procured it approximately eight years ago…and I must admit it has thrived under my rule. It is nearly as old as I am, and it has been a source of pride in my small collection.
The split leaf was the first followed by an aloe now almost too heavy to carry along with several cacti and jades. Over time, some color has been added with Spiderwort, Crotons, and Golden Pothos. Each one has its own requirements and personality, and learning the fine balance is part of the fun.
My miniature jungle has been a source of pleasure for me, because there is just something about watching the progress over time where everything else is expected to show results instantly. Maybe it is the view in winter when everything else drops its leaves? I’m not sure, but I wanted to share on this gloomy, rainy day.