It is with a heavy heart that I must inform you all of Neville's passing.
Neville. You know, my plant.
I tried! Oh, how I tried. He started out as my New Year's resolution and became my stalwart library desk companion. But the dry environment of the library office got the better of him and he just couldn't make it.
Every leaf was yellow. Every shoot drooped. Every fiber of his dying being limply accused me every time I walked by. If Neville could have had the strength to cry out, he would have.
Maybe he did. Who knows? I don't speak plant.
Clearly.
I took a moment to look through previous blog posts about Neville. We've had quite a journey, he and I. In the .23 seconds it took to toss his corpse in the trash can, his brief life flashed before my eyes.
Take a walk down memory lane with me, will you?
I got a plant for Christmas in 2010. I was doubtful he would live very long.
I named him Neville. I was afraid he was plotting against me.
Neville was always very dry. I tried to water him more. One of my New Year's resolutions for 2011 was to drink more water; probably subconsciously I didn't want to be dry like Neville.
Neville was never much of a conversationalist. He was pretty passive-aggressive, come to think of it.
I wondered if Neville would like chocolate poured on him instead of water. I did not try this, as I do not share my chocolate.
Neville became a mild celebrity. Friends actually gave me gifts to "sit by Neville" on my desk. His crotchety personality must have been appealing in an odd sort of way.
The one thing Neville always enjoyed was bathtime.
Neville got taller and taller, and I had to pluck dead leaves off him to keep him healthy.
Neville sprouted from his pot in several places and I wondered if he had a split personality.
One sprout stuck it out and I considered naming her.
Neville met Trevor (note how beautiful his leaves are during this happy time in his life!)
Neville and I celebrated National Take Your Houseplants for a Walk Day by...not doing it (Well SURE I regret it now!).
Neville's flourishing neighbor started creeping onto my desk (note Neville's long, thin sprouts and brownish leaves).
So that's the story of Neville. We had a good run. He may have been argumentative, grumpy, unappreciative, and not able to take a joke, but he was my plant.
Taking the advice of my coworker, who is a real plant-whisperer, I finally had to let him go. It was time to face the facts: he wasn't going to get better.
So goodbye, Neville! From dust you were made and to dust you will return.
My little buddy.
Neville. You know, my plant.
I tried! Oh, how I tried. He started out as my New Year's resolution and became my stalwart library desk companion. But the dry environment of the library office got the better of him and he just couldn't make it.
Every leaf was yellow. Every shoot drooped. Every fiber of his dying being limply accused me every time I walked by. If Neville could have had the strength to cry out, he would have.
Maybe he did. Who knows? I don't speak plant.
Clearly.
I took a moment to look through previous blog posts about Neville. We've had quite a journey, he and I. In the .23 seconds it took to toss his corpse in the trash can, his brief life flashed before my eyes.
Take a walk down memory lane with me, will you?
I got a plant for Christmas in 2010. I was doubtful he would live very long.
I named him Neville. I was afraid he was plotting against me.
Neville was always very dry. I tried to water him more. One of my New Year's resolutions for 2011 was to drink more water; probably subconsciously I didn't want to be dry like Neville.
Neville was never much of a conversationalist. He was pretty passive-aggressive, come to think of it.
I wondered if Neville would like chocolate poured on him instead of water. I did not try this, as I do not share my chocolate.
Neville became a mild celebrity. Friends actually gave me gifts to "sit by Neville" on my desk. His crotchety personality must have been appealing in an odd sort of way.
The one thing Neville always enjoyed was bathtime.
Neville got taller and taller, and I had to pluck dead leaves off him to keep him healthy.
Neville sprouted from his pot in several places and I wondered if he had a split personality.
One sprout stuck it out and I considered naming her.
Neville met Trevor (note how beautiful his leaves are during this happy time in his life!)
Neville and I celebrated National Take Your Houseplants for a Walk Day by...not doing it (Well SURE I regret it now!).
Neville's flourishing neighbor started creeping onto my desk (note Neville's long, thin sprouts and brownish leaves).
So that's the story of Neville. We had a good run. He may have been argumentative, grumpy, unappreciative, and not able to take a joke, but he was my plant.
Taking the advice of my coworker, who is a real plant-whisperer, I finally had to let him go. It was time to face the facts: he wasn't going to get better.
So goodbye, Neville! From dust you were made and to dust you will return.
My little buddy.
4 comments:
Is it appropriate to offer my sympathies?
I hope you kept the frog pot. I'll give you a cutting from that wild thing in my office!
I had read about this in the New York Times so I hustled right here to see if it was true. To my dismay it is. Maybe we should Knight Neville since we are saying good night to Neville? I know the days will not be the same without Neville. So so sorry for your lo lo loss. Did many friends get to attend the Tossing into the trash? I can only hope. If I was not so far away I would have thrown something in with him... maybe a paper boat to make his crossing into the other world easier. I am sure he is destined to be an oily spot someday. RIPh(rest in plant hereafter) Neville. Sorry I have to run... my salad awaits... :)
Thanks Mark, that means a lot! LOL!
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