Spider plants have always reminded me of macrame.
(In the event you did not grow up in the 1970s [the decade that style forgot], macrame is essentially a friendship bracelet for your plants).
As it happens, I haven’t been a fan of shag toilet seat covers, wood paneled rooms or macrame wall hangings for decades. As a result of my total rejection of all things 70s, I haven’t had a spider plant in my home for several decades.
Until two years ago.
A friend (Betsy, you know who you are…) gave me a spider plant baby.
A baby she had weaned from her Momma Spider Plant.
What a lovely, thoughtful gift.
I left this baby in her little baby spider plant glass of water for…well…better than a year (don’t tell Betsy)….and then I decided to plant her.
Wow! I felt so abundantly maternal. I loved these little spider plant babies.
So naturally, I wanted to grow some more.
In a seemingly unrelated bit of housewifery, I was cleaning out my office closet and found that I had a stash of no longer needed CDs.
I carefully snipped some little spider plant babies from their little spider plant umbilical stalks.
…and then inserted these little darlings into the CDs (shiny side up) so that their little spider plant baby leaves wouldn’t touch the water (plus, it looked really cool).
Over time, the little spider plant babies grew long luxurious roots…
…and I planted them in soil.
I now have a whole clutter of spider plant babies (the collective name for spiders is either cluster or clutter. I prefer clutter…cluster seems …. ominous…)
If I could only remember how to macrame.