if it were not for guests all houses would be graves

September 18: Cockaigne

My BFF has a very active fantasy life, which includes a sort of Cockaigne in which kitty-cats and puppy-dogs kiss on the lips and slow-dance in the moonlight. (No, I'm not being literal.) I envy her ability to see past the humdrum of reality and into what ought to be.

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trimmings! I went pruning. And for once, I didn't bother trying to root them into new plants. You'll see why, below.

my aloe, threatening to heave its pot to the side. See a previous incarnation here--it started out its life in a tiny pot in the kitchen sink window!

the first group of re-pots: two Christmas Cactus sprouts, two Children Of Bob, and a spider from the big momma at work. I've never managed to make a spider do the deed, so we'll see how that goes.... They're getting a drink from below, in this shot.

my goofy, frail cactus with no name, prior to its re-pot. The little fingers at the end of the branches break off really easily, sometimes just from a breeze coming through the window.

the second group of re-pots. Yes, the sansevieria had some babies. If anyone's looking to adopt, let me know--the things are bulletproof, perfect for newbies or those with grave plant fears. 

happy Christmas Cactus, since she received her "haircut"

the landing windowsill. All of these are recent re-pots except the one nearest the camera.

the unnamed cactus, doing well in its new pot, in a new location. No fingers lie broken!

the big mongrel got a new home, too. It weighs about fifty pounds now, between all that dirt and the huge pot (and of course the plant itself). But it's already a lot happier.

[the title quotation is by Kahlil Gibran]