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Becoming A Crazy Plant Lady
Giving in to the inevitable
I live in a rental, so can’t keep companion animals. Once my neighbour’s pet Rainbow Lorikeet broke out of its aviary and tried to move in under the house, so I fed it bananas until the owner came home. Then some weeks later a chicken turned up, but it was merely passing through, getting its fill of the free range life until a python got its fill of fowl. But neither incident was quite the same as having an animal in the house. As for wildlife, I mostly see Australian Figbirds, feathered patriotically in green and gold, which drop in to strip the mulberry of fruit, splatter shiraz-red poop everywhere, and then take their leave like the itinerant (and unlucky) chook.
So in the absence of animals, I’ve accumulated potted plants. Quite a lot, it turns out. I hadn’t realised just how many until I had to move them. But at least I don’t have to feed them or pick their breadcrumbed turds out of litter trays or rummage through their fur for ticks.
This time of year, they’re putting on new growth. The young leaves of Briar Oak (Musgravea heterophylla, Proteaceae), which is neither a briar nor an oak, are like fern fronds. Those of the…