I am one of those people who does not lightly follow things. I can’t just watch a show for the fun of it.
I am that person who will dive into the fan theory websites, who will incessantly talk about it with friends. I will write fan fiction about my favorite characters, and will secretly dream about what it would be like to kiss Captain Malcolm Reynolds. *awkward cough*
Anyways, I’m in a weird juncture in my life. I guess I’m staying in the UK for a couple more years, and so that means I’m settled in, at least for a little while. That means one thing to me: houseplants.
With the oncoming spring, the house is feeling so dead inside. The scales of winter are flaking off, and there is nothing to reveal underneath but sleepy walls and empty corners, startling in their dustiness when the new spring light hits them.
So I’ve been researching houseplants obsessively. I want big ones, and trailing ones, and bushy ones, and obviously one cannot have houseplants in this day and age without succulents. I want pots and jars and watering cans. It’s gotten so bad that my friends are now telling me that I’m nesting, that these are my new babies.
But maybe I think what they are, these houseplants, are anchors. I felt like I was sinking, and maybe if I can throw out a couple of safety lines in the forms of living organisms that I can keep alive, maybe I’ll start to believe that I can keep myself alive, too.