May I introduce you to 'Irish'. She has existed for as long as I can remember ... Mother had her from the 1950s.
She has a mind of her own ... she will grow to be full & lush, then die back. Usually, you can barely see the top of the spittoon/potty. At the moment she is returning to new growth.
As a child we were walking back home when Mother mentioned to the people she stopped to chat with briefly that she loved this 'pot'. They gave it to her, broken, held together with elephant glue & all ... it still remains the same. Mother, like me, loved green ... wee bit Irish, I'd say. This pot sat on Mother's coffee table in her home, forever.
I don't remember who gave Mother the slip of this plant. She put an old coffee can inside the 'pot' & planted Irish, the prayer plant.
Irish, the plant, has entertained all of us kids, the gr-kids & many others, as we were fascinated as the leaves closed, rustling a bit, in the eve.
This is one of the (2) items I asked to inherit from Mother ...
I keep Irish beside me on my desk window sill
so that I can watch her grow. It gives me great joy, it brings Mother close in memory daily.
If you look closely you can see the huge cracks that have endured the years.
A small Irish moment I'll share over the next couple of weeks. Have a wonderful green day!
I am painting so I will catch you all as I can. I apologize for not being on top of visiting you daily ... I will get back on track shortly.