My (step) mother-in-law and I had a lovely friendship. She passed away around 2005. Her son and his wife cleared out her apartment as soon as they could. They took art, furniture, a baby grand, mementoes, books, you name it: everything ended up in their home. But, I got what I wanted: the Portmeirion planter I had given her from a 1977 trip to Wales, and the lonely forgotten plants on her windowsill.

Previously, when my in-laws lived in their home, they had an incredibly beautiful, possibly Peruvian or Ecuadorian clay pot purchased duringIt was large and sat in its matching base. The whole thing rested in place next to a fireplace. In it was a plant. She had it well over twenty years: It had large ovoid, fleshy, velvety, hairy leaves with a silver stripe and it gifted her with beautiful flowers; like purple stars they shot up from their base.

It was not directly near a window but it loved the low light and for many happy years it sat in its place and it grew enormous.

When she lost her husband and moved to an apartment, a shadow of the plant came with her. It was healthy but a smaller version.

So, when she died, I took the Christmas Cactus: It lasted a number of years  and then I believe it just gave out likely from over-watering. A few others died rather quickly, likely missing their original caretaker. And then there was Mr. Furry, the remains of the huge plant that sat aside the fireplace for years. It looked like a large African Violet.

Mr. Furry was very lovable and touchable, especially when it was blooming; its leaves were so soothing, it was like a house pet. It lived here for years.

I never seem to know if a plant has been damaged by too much of something, or a lack of something but I intended to hold on to this plant-pet for as long as I could. And then one day I began to see little flies hovering over it and they multiplied daily. They weren’t dangerous but a sign likely of too much watering where these little guys would live in the soil’s upper crust and just keep multiplying. I finally was able to quell the insurgence through researching and subsequently sprinkling diatomaceous earth atop the soil to suffocate them.

Day by day, the plant lost one leaf after another until it was barren, mushy, and unrecognizable. I felt terrible, but it was prudent to just give up hope and dump the tainted remains.

I had to to replace it. I was almost as bereft as when my little orange tree died. (See Branches and Leaves). I began doing research, looking up all kinds of leaves, offering all kinds of descriptions of leaves and flowers to Google searches,  The same plant was no where to be found by my descriptions. But, I did come across African Primroses and I believe this is the family. I ordered two small plants that almost fit the leaf description from a grower. They are likely Streptocarpus. 

It took a while to find a balance of soil and water. I almost lost one, trying to find my way for the right balance of light, air and water and I must replant them soon to homes with better drainage.

As much as I would love to have that original furry friend, I have learned to love some new varieties.

This little guy seems to be fairly happy; you can see the almost violet features.
The foreground is indicative of a time of too little water.

Meanwhile, the other little guy has gifted me with a flower.
I believe this plant is the Streptocarpus Rexii.

Primrose Profile Portrait

Primrose Portrait

I am filled with clichés: nothing lasts forever. But perhaps the original Mr. Furry has led me to something unique and beautiful that will provide joy in its own way.

For as ever long that life will allow.

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