Today on Design*Sponge, amy m writes about plant propagation, and about being an apartment dweller who gets her garden jones in with her window sill plants.
When I was growing up in Morningside Heights in New York City, my mother was a transplanted farm girl who got her greenery with whatever would grow in little plants in her sunny bedroom windows.
We weren't rich, so these were all propagated from cuttings, or seeds (each of us kids had our own avocado tree grown from dinner's leftovers). They were planted in coffee cans and milk jugs. The curtains that covered these sunny windows were nothing but white cotton sheets hung on rods... but you know what? There is something about the sun shining through the translucent cotton, with shadows of green leaves behind it that still makes me feel at ease and alive.
Right now, I'm living life in a rather gypsy like manner, so I haven't got any house plants really. I like to keep my houseplants for a long time. Let them grow, get to know them, so I haven't risked getting any started. I miss houseplants. I miss green things in general. I even named my daughter Ivy, interestingly. I will probably start collecting ivy plants soon. I had one, a welcoming gift from my college for years. I wonder what happened to that plant? Did I kill it or give it to a friend?
I've been watching the tree outside of my living room window bud red leaves. I'm just waiting for the chlorophyll to kick in.
Gosh I wish Spring would go ahead and sprung already.
Well, until then, perhaps I can make some plants out of fabric, felt and embroidery. (Gosh aren't those cute embroidery scissors?) Here is Geninne, and one of her beautiful birds. Interestingly, just yesterday, my daughter said that her Barbie doll (I know. Barbies. What kind of feminist am I?) needed a book and that I should make one for her. Here I am, working with felt and embroidery. I don't know why I didn't think of making a little book out of that? I wanted also to give a shout out to Geninne for pointing me to a tutorial on doing the chain stitch... because my grandma taught me how when I was seven, but I'd forgotten, and had been trying to fake it... er... recreate it from my head. Thanks Geninne.