Succulent Rehab

I did some urban gardening this weekend, which basically means that I replanted the potted succulents that were dying on our back steps.

I planted them all last year when we first moved into this apartment. I was so excited because we finally had that long-coveted outdoor space that city dwellers die for. Although it's nothing more than a back door with a stoop barely big enough for a welcome mat, I love that it opens up to the clear blue sky.

San Francisco fog hovers over Twin Peaks
like a thick fluffy cloud blanket.

I got so excited about our new 'backyard' that I rushed out and bought $200 worth of succulents and colorful pots. I don't know if you know it, but in succulent currency, that's a shit ton.

I love my plants. I talk to them a lot. I stand and stare at them, willing them to love me back and to show it by growing a little. I squeal like a pig every time I see a new bud popping up.

Unfortunately for them, I also love a lot of other things, too. Like parks, reading, television and beer contests. So sometimes I forget that my plants need water. Luckily succulents are extremely resilient little suckers, and this weekend I spent the day trying to win them back over, promising that this was the last time. It would never happen again.

I've changed.

Don't you love it when they grow those crazy flowering things?!

They had grown so much over the past year, that I had to combine them in bigger pots. I really love seeing them swimming altogether in the same place. They get along so nicely.

Hello.

Sadly, not all of them made it to new pots. Succulents grow in all sorts of crazy directions, and when I was transferring them, these branches fell off. So now they're in mason jar rehab, trying to sprout enough to be planted in all of my leftover colorful pots.

We are so good together.