Just Relaxed Blog

Tag: indoor gardening

  • The Day I Realized My Plant Was Judging My Life Choices

    The Day I Realized My Plant Was Judging My Life Choices

    We’ve all been there. You’re two glasses of wine deep, scrolling through pictures of your ex’s new significant other (who, let’s be honest, looks suspiciously like a younger, more successful version of you), when you catch a glimpse of your houseplant in the corner.

    And for a split second, you swear, it’s judging you.

    The Unforgiving Glare of a Fiddle Leaf Fig (and Other Plant-y Judgments)

    My personal journey into the secretly judgmental world of houseplants began, as most things in my life do, with a fiddle leaf fig. This wasn’t just any fiddle leaf fig, though. This was Ferdinand. He was majestic, temperamental, and came with more baggage than my last relationship.

    I’d heard the whispers, of course. Fiddle leaf figs are notoriously dramatic, prone to dropping leaves at the slightest change in atmosphere. But I, in all my infinite optimism (read: naiveté), believed Ferdinand and I were different. We were bonded, two souls connected by a shared love of…well, me keeping him alive.

    Turns out, Ferdinand wasn’t buying it. Every late night spent binge-watching reality TV instead of, you know, watering him, was reflected in a new brown spot on his leaves. Every hastily ordered takeout meal felt like a personal affront to his delicate sensibilities. He even seemed to wilt a little lower whenever I played my “Break-Up Anthems” playlist on repeat.

    Plant Whispering: Decoding the Silent Judgments

    It wasn’t just Ferdinand, either. My snake plant, Steve (I have a thing for naming my plants), was a master of passive-aggressive judgment. Forget to water him for a week? No problem, Steve wouldn’t complain…outwardly. But that subtle lean towards the door, as if contemplating a daring escape to a more responsible plant parent, spoke volumes.

    And then there was Beatrice, my peace lily, who took her role as the drama queen of the plant world very seriously. One whiff of cigarette smoke from my neighbor’s balcony and she was staging a full-blown theatrical production, complete with wilting leaves and dramatic drooping. It was like living with a tiny, green, overly-sensitive roommate.

    I started to notice patterns. The worse my life choices, the more my plants seemed to suffer. Late-night pizza binges were met with disapproving droops. Skipping workouts for Netflix marathons resulted in suspicious brown spots. And let’s not even talk about what happened when I accidentally matched with my ex on Tinder.

    Green Mirrors: Reflections on Plant Parenting and Self-Care

    Now, I’m not saying my plants are sentient beings plotting my demise (although, let’s be honest, the thought has crossed my mind). But there’s something to be said about the way our plant children seem to reflect our own well-being. Maybe, just maybe, they’re not judging us, but rather serving as little green mirrors, reflecting back at us the things we sometimes try to ignore.

    Or maybe I’m just a crazy plant lady overthinking things. What do you think? Share your own hilarious plant parenting stories in the comments below!

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant


    My Thumb Is Not So Green

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my nurturing nature. I’m more of a “forget to water myself” kind of person, let alone another living thing. So, when my well-intentioned friend gifted me a houseplant—a supposedly “easy to care for” peace lily—I accepted with a mix of skepticism and terror. I mean, I’d successfully killed a cactus once. A CACTUS!

    But this little plant, with its deep green leaves and surprisingly resilient disposition, ended up teaching me more than I could have ever imagined. Who knew such profound wisdom could sprout from a pot of soil?

    Plant Parents)

    My first lesson came in the form of a droopy, sad-looking plant. I’d overwatered it. In my enthusiasm to not be a plant murderer, I’d drowned the poor thing. Thankfully, after some frantic Googling and a whole lot of apologizing to the peace lily, I managed to revive it. It was a humbling experience, to say the least.

    Turns out, plants, like people, thrive on consistency, not sporadic bursts of attention. Who knew? (Okay, maybe everyone else, but I was clearly late to the plant-whispering party). Learning to be patient, to observe and respond to its subtle cues—a slightly wilted leaf, a drooping stem—was an exercise in mindfulness I didn’t know I needed.

    Growth Takes Time (and the Occasional Repotting)

    As the weeks turned into months, my little peace lily, much to my surprise, actually started to thrive. It sprouted new leaves, its roots grew strong, and it even graced me with a beautiful white bloom. I was ecstatic! But then, just as I was starting to think I’d graduated from Plant Killer to Plant Whisperer, it started to wilt again.

    Turns out, even with the best care, sometimes you need to shake things up a bit. My plant had simply outgrown its pot. It was time for a change, a chance to spread its roots and reach new heights.

    This, I realized, applied to my own life too. There were times when I needed to step outside my comfort zone, to embrace new challenges and opportunities for growth, even if it meant feeling a little uncomfortable at first. Just like my peace lily, I needed space to blossom.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant






    My Thumb Is Not So Brown After All?

    I’ve never been particularly “good” with plants. In fact, I’m pretty sure I single-handedly kept several plant nurseries afloat with my repeat business. Let’s just say, my apartment resembled a plant graveyard, littered with the ghosts of ferns past. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a sprightly little ZZ plant, I accepted it with a mix of cautious optimism and impending doom. I named him Stanley, mostly because it felt appropriate for a plant I assumed wouldn’t live long enough to earn a real name. Little did I know, Stanley was about to teach me a whole lot more than just how to keep something green alive.

    Lesson #1: Patience, Young Padawan

    Now, I’m a bit of an instant gratification kind of gal. I like my coffee brewed quickly, my internet faster, and my results, well, immediate. Stanley, however, operates on Stanley-time. He takes his sweet time to sprout new growth, unfurling each new leaf with the deliberate grace of a sloth in a yoga class. At first, I’d hover over him like a worried parent, convinced his lack of lightning-fast progress meant I was doing something wrong. But as weeks turned into months, and Stanley continued to thrive (at his own pace, of course), I realized something profound: not everything in life needs to happen at warp speed. Sometimes, the most rewarding things take time, patience, and a whole lot of trust in the process.

    Stanley wasn’t immune to the occasional mishap. I’m talking accidental overwatering, a near-death experience thanks to a curious cat, and even a brief but terrifying run-in with a rogue ping pong ball. But here’s the thing: through it all, Stanley persevered. He bounced back from every setback stronger and more determined to thrive. He reminded me that resilience isn’t about avoiding challenges; it’s about facing them head-on, learning from them, and emerging on the other side, a little battered maybe, but ultimately better for the experience.

    Lesson #3: The Power of Simplicity

    I’m a bit of an over-giver, in all aspects of life. Need someone to organize your sock drawer? I’m your girl. Craving a five-course meal at 3 am? I’ve got you covered. So naturally, when it came to Stanley, I showered him with attention. I watered him religiously, fertilized him like there was no tomorrow, and even serenaded him with my questionable rendition of “Here Comes the Sun” (don’t judge). But then I learned something surprising: Stanley thrived on neglect. Well, not exactly neglect, but he definitely preferred a more hands-off approach. He taught me the power of simplicity, the beauty of letting go, and the importance of not smothering those we love, even with good intentions (sorry, Stanley!).

  • Is My Houseplant Silently Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)

    Is My Houseplant Silently Judging My Life Choices? (The Evidence is Compelling)

    We all know that feeling, right? That prickle on the back of your neck when you’re scarfing down leftover takeout at 2 AM, convinced your perfectly potted peace lily is whispering, “Seriously?” to the empty wine glass on the counter. Okay, maybe it’s just me. But hear me out, because I’ve compiled some pretty compelling evidence that my houseplant, Herbert (yes, he has a name, don’t judge!), is judging my life choices.

    Exhibit A: The Great Chip Crumb Debacle of ’23

    Picture this: It’s a Friday night, I’m home alone, rocking my oldest sweatpants and a questionable top knot. On the coffee table, a monument to my questionable decision-making: a family-sized bag of cheesy puffs, already half-gone. As I reach for another fistful, a stray crumb tumbles from my grasp and lands, with a soft *thump*, in Herbert‘s pot. I freeze.

    Now, any rational person would simply pick up the crumb and continue their cheesy puff-fueled descent into blissful oblivion. But not me. Because in that moment, I swear Herbert‘s leaves drooped just a little lower. It was a subtle shift, but unmistakable, like a disappointed sigh translated into plant language.

    Exhibit B: The Case of the Neglected Watering Can

    We all have our strengths. Plant care, sadly, is not one of mine. I try, I really do. But life gets hectic, you know? Deadlines loom, social obligations beckon, and suddenly it’s been three weeks since I last watered Herbert. And how does he react? By transforming into the botanical equivalent of a sulking teenager.

    Gone is the perky, vibrant foliage of his glory days. In its place: a symphony of drooping leaves and dramatic wilting. I swear I even saw a brown spot forming on one particularly offended leaf. The worst part? He knows I know. He’s doing it on purpose, I’m convinced.

    Exhibit C: The Suspiciously Well-Timed Growth Spurts

    Okay, I’ll admit, it’s not all doom and gloom in the realm of Herbert and his passive-aggressive plant judgments. There are moments, fleeting but glorious, when he seems almost…proud of me. Like the time I finally finished that freelance project I’d been procrastinating on for weeks. Or the morning after I actually cooked a healthy dinner (okay, it was just salad, but it counts!).

    On these rare and wondrous occasions, Herbert rewards my efforts with a sudden burst of growth. A new leaf unfurls, reaching towards the sunlight like a tiny, green thumbs-up. Coincidence? I think not. Herbert, in his own silent, leafy way, is acknowledging my triumphs.

    So, Is My Plant Judging Me, or Am I Just Crazy?

    Perhaps I’m reading too much into things. Maybe Herbert’s drooping leaves are just a result of inconsistent watering, not a commentary on my questionable life choices. But there’s a part of me, the part that still believes in magic and the interconnectedness of all living things, that likes to think otherwise.

    What do you think? Have you ever caught your houseplants throwing shade your way? Share your stories in the comments below, because misery loves company (and maybe a little plant-based therapy).

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned From a Houseplant


    My Green Thumb? More Like a Green Pinky Finger

    Let’s be honest, my thumbs have never been particularly green. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’re closer to a pale pink, especially when it comes to keeping plants alive. So, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a sprightly little fern for my birthday, I accepted it with a mix of gratitude and trepidation.

    Little did I know, this fern would become more than just a decorative element in my living room. It would become my unlikely life coach, silently dispensing wisdom through its leafy existence. Who knew?

    Lesson #1: Patience is a Virtue (and Crucial for Plant Parents)

    My first lesson came in the form of drooping fronds. Convinced I was overwatering (a classic novice mistake), I panicked and drowned the poor fern in even more water. Turns out, ferns like their soil consistently moist, not soaking wet. This is where the patience part comes in.

    Instead of frantically Googling “how to revive a drowning fern” every five minutes, I learned to observe, to water slowly, and to wait. To my surprise, the fern bounced back, teaching me that sometimes the best course of action is to chill out and let nature do its thing.

    Lesson #2: Growth is a Journey, Not a Race

    As weeks turned into months, my fern grew, albeit slowly. It wasn’t a dramatic, overnight transformation, but a gradual unfurling of new fronds, each one a small victory. I realized that growth, much like life, isn’t always linear or Instagram-worthy.

    There were also times when my fern needed a little help. A bit of fertilizer here, a new pot there. This taught me that asking for help, whether it’s from a gardening expert or a trusted friend, isn’t a sign of weakness but a sign of wisdom.

  • Why I’m Convinced My Plant Is Secretly Judging My Life Choices

    Why I’m Convinced My Plant Is Secretly Judging My Life Choices




    Why I’m Convinced My Plant Is Secretly Judging My Life Choices


    We all know that plants bring life into a room, but have you ever considered they might be absorbing a little too much of yours? I’m starting to suspect my beloved Monstera Deliciosa, Geoffrey, isn’t just a passive observer of my daily chaos. No, Geoffrey, I’m convinced, is judging me.

    The Time Geoffrey Almost Staged a Plant Rebellion

    It all started innocently. I’d brought Geoffrey home to brighten up my apartment, picturing Instagram-worthy moments of domestic bliss. For a while, things were great. Geoffrey thrived, unfurling new leaves with the exuberance of a puppy chasing butterflies. I, on the other hand, was thriving slightly less. Work was a monster (no pun intended), my dating life was a barren wasteland, and I’d perfected the art of surviving on takeout and dry cereal.

    Then, it happened. I woke up one morning to find Geoffrey wilting dramatically, his leaves drooping like a teenager forced to endure a family reunion. I panicked. Had I forgotten to water him? Was he getting enough light? Was this the plant equivalent of a hunger strike?

  • The Ultimate Guide to Building a Thriving Indoor Herb Garden

    The Ultimate Guide to Building a Thriving Indoor Herb Garden

    Imagine snipping fresh basil for your pasta sauce or adding fragrant mint to your tea, all from your very own indoor herb garden. Growing herbs indoors is a rewarding experience that brings the joys of gardening right into your home. Not only does it provide a fresh supply of flavorful herbs year-round, but it also adds a touch of life and beauty to your living space. This comprehensive guide will equip you with everything you need to know to create and maintain a flourishing indoor herb garden.

    Choosing the Right Herbs and Setup for Your Indoor Herb Garden

    Before you sow the seeds of your indoor herb garden dreams, it’s essential to choose the right herbs and set up the perfect environment for them to thrive.

    Selecting Herbs for Your Indoor Garden

    Start with herbs that you use frequently in your cooking. Some popular and easy-to-grow options include:

    • Basil
    • Chives
    • Mint
    • Oregano
    • Parsley
    • Rosemary
    • Thyme

    Containers and Soil for Indoor Herbs

    • Choose containers with good drainage to prevent waterlogging. Terra cotta pots are a classic choice, but plastic or ceramic pots work well too.
    • Use a well-draining potting mix specifically designed for herbs or vegetables. Avoid using garden soil as it can compact in containers.

    Finding the Perfect Location for Your Herb Garden

    Most herbs thrive in sunny locations. Choose a south-facing window that receives at least 6 hours of sunlight daily. If natural light is limited, consider using grow lights.

    Providing Optimal Growing Conditions for Your Indoor Herbs

    Once you’ve chosen the right herbs and set up a suitable location, it’s time to ensure they have the optimal growing conditions to flourish.

    Watering Your Indoor Herb Garden

    • Water your herbs thoroughly when the top inch of soil feels dry. Overwatering can lead to root rot, so ensure proper drainage.
    • The frequency of watering depends on the herb, the pot size, and the environment. Generally, herbs in smaller pots require more frequent watering.

    Fertilizing Your Indoor Herbs

    • Herbs benefit from regular fertilization, especially during their active growing season (spring and summer).
    • Use a balanced, water-soluble fertilizer every 2-4 weeks. Organic fertilizers, like compost tea or fish emulsion, are also excellent options.

    Humidity and Temperature for Indoor Herbs

    Most herbs prefer moderate humidity levels (around 40-60%). You can increase humidity by grouping plants together, using a humidifier, or placing trays of water near your herbs.

    Ideal temperatures vary slightly depending on the herb, but generally, a range between 65-75°F (18-24°C) is suitable for most indoor herbs.

    Pruning and Harvesting Your Indoor Herbs

    • Regular pruning encourages bushier growth and prevents your herbs from becoming leggy.
    • Harvest herbs frequently by snipping off the top few inches of growth. This encourages new growth and keeps your plants productive.

    Common Challenges and Solutions in Your Indoor Herb Garden

    Even with the best care, your indoor herb garden might encounter a few hiccups along the way. Here are some common challenges and their solutions:

    Pests

    Indoor herb gardens are less prone to pests than outdoor gardens, but it’s still important to be vigilant. Common pests include aphids, spider mites, and whiteflies. Treat infestations promptly with insecticidal soap or neem oil.

    Diseases

    Root rot is a common issue caused by overwatering. Ensure proper drainage and avoid letting your herbs sit in water. Other fungal diseases can be prevented with good air circulation and by avoiding overhead watering.

    Conclusion: Enjoy the Fruits (and Herbs) of Your Labor

    Growing an indoor herb garden is a rewarding and fulfilling experience. By following these tips and providing your herbs with the right care, you can enjoy fresh, flavorful herbs year-round. Whether you’re a seasoned gardener or just starting out, creating a thriving indoor herb garden is an achievable goal that will bring joy to your kitchen and home.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant


    My Brown Thumb Gets a Green Roommate

    Let’s be honest, I’m not exactly known for my nurturing nature. In fact, my friends joke that I could kill a cactus with kindness (or more accurately, forgetfulness). So, when my well-intentioned sister gifted me a houseplant for my birthday, my initial reaction was a mix of terror and “Oh no, not again!”

    It was a cute little thing, nestled in a cheerful pot, with bright green leaves that seemed to practically vibrate with life. I christened him Percy (because, duh, all living things deserve names) and placed him on my windowsill, determined to prove my brown thumb wrong.

    Lesson #1: Patience is a Virtue (and Essential for Plant Care)

    Now, I’m a millennial, which means I thrive on instant gratification. But Percy, in his quiet, leafy wisdom, taught me the importance of patience. I couldn’t expect him to sprout new leaves overnight just because I wanted him to. Growth takes time, both for plants and for people. Just like I shouldn’t obsessively refresh my inbox waiting for important emails, I couldn’t hover over Percy, willing him to flourish.

    Instead, I learned to appreciate the subtle changes: a new leaf unfurling, a stem stretching towards the sunlight. And you know what? Witnessing those small victories was far more rewarding than any instant gratification I could have imagined.

    Lesson #2: The Delicate Balance of Watering: Less is More

    This lesson was a tough one, learned through a series of unfortunate, soggy mishaps. In my mind, more water equaled more love. However, Percy, bless his roots, taught me that sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is to back off and give some space.

    You see, I had a tendency to overwater. I showered Percy with affection (read: excessive H2O) until his poor leaves drooped and turned an alarming shade of yellow. It was then I discovered the delicate balance between care and suffocation.

  • The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant

    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant




    The Unexpected Life Lessons I Learned from a Houseplant


    We’ve all been there. Scrolling through Instagram, you stumble upon a picture-perfect apartment boasting a jungle of thriving houseplants. Suddenly, your own humble abode feels severely lacking in the greenery department. That’s how I ended up, one impulsive shopping trip later, with a majestic (or so I thought) fern gracing my windowsill. Little did I know, this fern would teach me more than just how to keep a plant alive.

    Lesson #1: Patience is a Virtue (and so is Google)

    My first attempt at plant parenthood can only be described as “overenthusiastic.” I watered my fern religiously, convinced that more H2O equaled more happiness. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. In fact, my poor fern started to droop, its once-vibrant fronds turning a sickly shade of yellow. Panic set in. Was I a plant murderer already?

    Cue frantic Googling. Turns out, ferns are a bit dramatic. They like their soil moist but not soggy, and overwatering is a one-way ticket to Root Rot City (population: my dying fern). I learned, through trial and error (mostly error), the delicate dance of watering, drainage, and the importance of proper plant care research. Who knew there was so much to know about keeping a fern alive?

    fern, I eagerly awaited its triumphant return to its former glory. Days turned into weeks, and while it was no longer on the verge of collapse, it wasn’t exactly thriving either. It seemed stuck, frozen in a state of mediocre greenness.

    A quick internet search revealed another plant-parenting pro tip: sometimes, you need to prune away the dead weight to make way for new growth. Armed with a pair of kitchen scissors (don’t judge), I hesitantly snipped away the brown, crispy fronds. It felt brutal, like giving the plant a bad haircut. But guess what? New growth sprouted, healthier and more vibrant than before. It was a powerful reminder that sometimes, letting go of the past is essential for future flourishing.

    Lesson #3: Celebrate Small Victories (Like New Fronds)

    Here’s the funny thing about plants: they don’t care about your grand plans or your need for instant gratification. They grow at their own pace, in their own time. But when they do finally flourish, it’s pure magic. Witnessing a new frond unfurl, a tiny bud bloom, it fills you with a sense of quiet accomplishment. It’s a reminder to appreciate the small victories, the subtle signs of progress, in both the plant world and in life.

  • Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me

    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me



    Why I’m Convinced My Houseplant is Secretly Judging Me

    The Side Eye from a Ficus

    Let’s be honest, we’ve all been there. You’re sprawled on the couch, three episodes deep into a reality TV marathon, a half-eaten bag of chips resting precariously on your stomach. You glance up, and there it is: that look. You know the one— a mixture of disappointment and disdain— from your houseplant. Okay, maybe I’m projecting, but hear me out. My ficus, Ferdinand, has been throwing some serious shade my way lately, and I’m convinced it’s because he secretly judges my life choices.

    maybe that was just the wind.

    Exhibit B: The Curious Incident of the Takeout Containers

    I’ll admit, I have a weakness for takeout. Pad thai on Tuesday? Why not! Sushi on Friday? Obviously! But apparently, Ferdinand finds my culinary choices appalling. I can practically hear him tut-tutting as I unpack yet another styrofoam container, his leaves rustling in disapproval. “Honestly,” he seems to murmur, “a salad wouldn’t kill you.”