The Snake Plant Quadruplets

What do we call a lesson that is a reminder, rather than new knowledge? Reinforcement.

It was unwise of me to have picked up the drip plates holding the dry-soil, top-heavy snake plant babies, at least without holding the pots for stability. It was doubly ill-advised of me to have double fisted it. In forgetting my waitressing inability to carry multiple cups on a tray, I invited chaos into my morning.

This messy accident did bring to my attention that the roots are starting to become pot-bound. Thankfully, I’ve read that repotting in winter is a-ok for houseplants. The soil should be moist, but not too soggy before repotting, so that bodes well for watering now and waiting a few days before the repot.

This wee oops also provided me with a prime opportunity to propagate a snapped-off snake plant leaf. Other than clipping the leaf near the base of the plant, rather than a node, the method seems about the same as propagation for inchplants. I don’t think I would have thought to try it before, but if this endeavor proves successful, my home may see a snake plant baby boom.

One of the quadruplets was due for an amputation of a bent-over, definitely-dead leaf. There are multiple possible causes for this wilt, including the root-bound soil, which shall be fixed within a week or two. The deceased leaf could also be a sign of overwatering (I cringe as I water the babies again). Snake plants only need watering every few months, and my one mature snake plant has been thriving with that easy-gardening level of care. Yet I’d venture to assert that younger plants need more frequent watering. Like human babies (the care of which I have no knowledge, to be honest), these smaller bodies don’t have the same capacity for reserves as adults have. Ergo, smaller portions but more regular feeding. The soil was certainly bone-dry (as is recommended before watering snake plants), so I don’t think it was a bad call to water them after only a month since their last watering. I will probably wait until spring for the next time, since even indoor plants hibernate in winter, and the dormancy requires less water.

What is THAT?

And then. We have. The plant growing from underneath the compost bin.

I have been aware of a tangle of vines expanding around and in front of the bins for many weeks, and had thought it was an extension from the various vines clinging to the neighboring fence. I ignored it, planning to prune it back whenever I wasn’t feeling indolent.

And then. I noticed. The fruits.

The vines on the fence only produce trumpet flowers, no fruits. Finally taking a closer look, I could see that the plant was growing out of the bin of soil that I had placed under the composter to contain the mess of the compost juice that oozes out. Turns out some seeds must have also leaked out and been loving the juicy environment. From the looks of it, I think we have plum tomatoes. Or had. The weather has gotten quite frosty, and these berries (botanically, tomatoes are classified as such) don’t seem to have fully matured. But still, they *grew*. And that seems representative of so much Plant Life: it boldly asserts itself beyond the domain of human meddling.