Fish around in my garage, if you don't believe me. There you'll find lawnmowers, rototillers, every garden tool known to man... A few hundred flower pots. And, that's about it. Nothing but the bare necessities.
People think I'm a hoarder because I tend to keep house plants. Forever.
It's not always because of a deep, emotional attachment. In Uncle Henry's case, I keep hoping someone, someday, might like the looks of this spiny old fella and offer to adopt him.
It has been 15 years. And, so far, nobody has stepped forward to claim this Grumpy Gus.
Uncle Henry is an African Milk Tree. Nurseries say these plants make a cute little addition to those coffee table size cactus gardens that are ever so popular.
Well, that was then.
And, this is now.
Henry is brushing our 10 foot ceiling.
Plus! We have a love child. Check out the photo.
When we did the annual super bowl rotation (it takes an army of house guests to move him and most are none too thrilled with the task) look who was hiding behind the old guy's gnarly stalks! A 4 foot tall bambino. Henry, Jr. exposed to the light of day.
African Milk Trees are called the Good Luck Plant. Give him away and good luck comes my way! Any takers?
PSSSST! Want the inside scoop as to how Uncle Henry became such a big bruiser? It's not groovy, organic fertilizer. It's not special soil. It's Christmas lights. Yup. When we tie him up tight with Christmas lights, he goes ga-ga over the warmth.
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