i have a green thumb. i am not a plant expert or enthusiast. i am not a horticulturist or a gardener. but i am good at doing a little something every day, and never missing a day. STILL blog is to some extent a testimony to this kind of dogged persistence. one of the results of this trait is that no plants in our house ever die. they all get a little sunshine and a little water almost every day, and so gifts of little baby ficus trees or dwarf orange trees turn into teenaged foster children, growing out of their wardrobes of larger and larger pots, while morphing into gangly indoor jungle plants. our family is currently overextended. i am housemothering and housewifing and chauffeuring as much as ever, while operating under a creative deadline. steve is in the midst of the hell that is march during tax season, while managing some writing deadlines that require an entirely opposite half of his brain.  eva is at capacity plus, with school, ACT prep, speech team, soccer, and a looming physics fair assignment. joseph is practicing for round two of piano competition. jack is not getting out to walk enough. and the symbol of all of this is the leaf i found today, crumpled and brittle on the kitchen countertop. it was telling me that its mother plant needed water, which is a reminder i almost never need. i looked at the leaf, and felt like i had just slept through an alarm, and was late for something.

fallen leaf of unknown identity

from anywhere