Ok.  So first.  TITLE PUN!  Not only will this entry relate to plants but Passover is just around the corner.  I'm proud of this one.  You can tell.

So second. I belong to a non-exclusive club.  That club includes anyone who starts any blog/conversation/aside with a version of this statement, "if it is technically alive, doesn't have a mouth, and is in my house -- it will be dead in a matter of months.  Months is generous.  Months is adult-Matt with plants.  college-Matt could desiccate a flower faster than a magnifying glass on ant.

The only plants that have ever survived my wrath, or really that have any chance at all, are cacti and bamboo.  Let me be clear.  I have killed both cacti and bamboo.  But they have also survived the longest.  Currently i have a set of three sprigs (wtf's a sprig) of bamboo up against the window.  This would be all well and good and zen and whatnot, if not for the fact that these 3 sprigs are the survivors of two separate batches of bamboo.  the smaller batch, probably 6 sprigs, i took for my own, and killed.  Just to give you an idea of how hard it is to kill bamboo.  All bamboo need is to be in some level of water.  The other batch of bamboo was in a pho-indian ceramic elephant.  There was a ton of it.  40 sprigs.  When my batch was dead, every single sprig that had been left, mostly neglected, on top of the fridge were alive.  By the time I got around to swapping out the dead sprigs i was *ahem* nurturing, there were only 4 survivors.  These 3 sprigs we currently have are the ones that survived the move to the new house.  It's like Darwin's evolution, but much much faster. 

I've also killed cacti.  I've killed plants designed to survive to worst possible environments.  The sahara aint got shit on me.  The lone cacti survivors are two "Christmas" cacti.  Named because they are supposed to bloom in December.  One of mine blooms around Thanksgiving.  The other just bloomed.  I think he was thrown off by our move.  I hear changing home environments can be very stressful on your plants. 

No i didn't.  That's stupid.  I hope you didn't believe that not even for a moment.  That said, if you did believe it, let me know so i can start up some plant therapy/massage studios: 

I mean, cause, don't you want your plants to feel like they're a part of the family too.

I mean, cause, don't you love your plants enough to give them the best.

I mean, cause, 90% of planned parenthood goes to abortions. 

They're all lies, but only one was said on the floor of Congress. 

Thankfully, i'm attracted to nurturers.  And i'm lucky to live in an area where the moniker "Farmer" is synonymous with Mrs. or Mr.  or Dr. etc etc etc.   It must feel nice to have a moniker that you identify so strongly with.  One of my earth nurturing Farmer friends recently started his own CSA from scratch with help from a federal grant.  he started a farm.  a farm!  I seriously can't even figure out how to affix my coat-rack on the wall without creating an avalanche of plaster, and he is pulling food from the earth like a midwife 9-months after 9-11.  He got shares out the first season.  He even is kind enough to bring us some of his fresh veggies when he visits.  Usually i am very picky about food that looks too earthy.  All covered in soil and whatnot.  But I trust Farmer Steve.  Partially because of the moniker.  Partially because even though i eat my vegetables begrudgingly . . . his always taste so good.

Except the asparagus.  Asparagus makes me gag.