Z mojego domu rodzinnego jak przez mgłę pamiętam salon w formie dżungli, z olbrzymimi fikusami, palmami, filodendronami i ścianą pnączy zwisających nad stołem i zaglądających do barszczu gościom przy Wigilii.
Pamiętam też, że pewnego dnia mama wstała z łóżka, zapaliła papierosa do porannej kawy i lekką ręką wyrzuciła wszystkie 100 kwiatów. Nie pamięta teraz czemu w zasadzie to zrobiła. Chodziła w tamtych czasach taka plotka, że difenbachia wydziela w powietrze trujące opary.
Potem przyszła moda na kaktusy. Okrągłe z igłami jak wielkie szpile z tkackiego wrzeciona, długie i włochate w kształcie penisa Yeti, piękne rzeźby przypominające konary drzew ze stumilowego lasu... Kaktusów było mniej niż poprzednich roślin wszelakich, bo zaledwie 60. W tych czasach przypadała okazja mojej Pierwszej Komunii Świętej. W przeciwieństwie do większości kolegów i koleżanek, nie marzyłam o złotych zegarkach i rowerze z kulkami w szprychach. Zapragnęłam mieć kota perskiego.
Blanca przyszla do mnie w wiklinowym koszyku, z kokardą na szyi i była piękną szylkredową kotką, która, jak to persy, nie była zbyt sympatyczna i stanowczo oznajmiała swoje niezadowolenie. Notorycznie sikała tacie do butów, bo ten codziennie zrzucał ją z ulubionego fotela.
Blanca przyszla do mnie w wiklinowym koszyku, z kokardą na szyi i była piękną szylkredową kotką, która, jak to persy, nie była zbyt sympatyczna i stanowczo oznajmiała swoje niezadowolenie. Notorycznie sikała tacie do butów, bo ten codziennie zrzucał ją z ulubionego fotela.
Blanca nie wychodziła na dwór, żeby się nie zgubiła. Nie miała więc szansy zakumplować się z innymi kotami na dzielni. Nie przepadali za sobą. W ogóle Blanca nie przepadała za nikim. Kaktusy były ustawione w rządku na wyjątkowo długim parapecie wzdłuż dwóch wielkich okien w salonie, z którego wychodziło się na balkon. Tzn, z którego my wychodziliśmy na balkon, bo przecież nie Blanca. Odwiedzały go za to koty z dzielni. Pewngo dnia koty i Blanca spotkali sie po dwóch stronach okna - one na parapecie od strony balkonu, ona na komodzie za kaktusami. Nie pamiętam juz nawet o co im poszło. W tym całym zamieszaniu ciężko było ustalić sedno sporu. Moja nerwowa dziewczynka postanowiła pogonić towarzysto, jedym susem rzucając się desperacko w rząd kaktusów, strącając je, jeden za drugim, jak cynowe żołenierzyki z półki nad kominkiem.
Potem nie pamiętam już roślin w domu. Nic. Pustka. Wyprowadzałam się więc z niego bez poczucia, że rośliny w domu powinny być, bo bez roślin dom jest tylko przechowlanią, pustym pudełkiem na ludzi. Prawie tak jak bez psów, ale trochę mniej. Dom bez psów to już nawet nie pudełko, a tylko smutek.
Przez lata ani jednego kwiata. W pierwszym mieszkaniu, drugim, trzecim. Kwiaty i zioła w ogródku jednak jak najbardziej. Czyli nie, że bez miłości do zielonego w sercu, tylko bez świadomości ile to zielone daje.
Olśniło mnie jakiś miesiąc temu, kiedy przeglądając Openhous'a uderzył mnie artykuł o ludziach, którzy nie pamiętam co robili (czyli uderzył mnie nie artykuł, a raczej jego strona ilustracyjna), ale mieli w domu stado kwiatów. I wtem zapragnęłam mieć w domu rośliny. Im większe i bardziej "wieśniackie", tym lepiej.
Tak oto zaczęła się moja przygoda z roślinami pokojowymi.
***
From my family house I remember vaguely the living room being a jungle with huge ficus', palms, philodendrons and wall of climbing plants hanging above the table and peeping into guest's bowls of borsh during the Christmas Eve supper.
I remember also that one day my mum got up from the bed, smoke a cigarette to accompany her morning cup of coffee and threw away all 100 plants, just like that. Now she doesn't remember why she actually did that. There was a rumor those days that dumb cane excretes poisonous fumes into the air.
Then came the vogue for cactus'. Ball shaped with thorns long like from a weavers' spindle, long and hairy liake Yeti's penis, beautiful sculptures resembling limbs from Hundred Acre Wood.... The amount of cactus' was smaller then the prevoius various plants' as there were 60. Those days was the time of my First Communion but in opposite to my school friends I wasn;t dreaming about golden watch or new bike with balls on spokes. I wished to have a persian cat.
Blanca came to me in a wooden basket with big ribbon on her neck and was a beautiful tri colour kitty which as most of persians wasn't very simpatiqe and annouced her dissatisfaction to the whole world. She notoriously pissed to my dad's shoes as he was pushing her off his favourite armchair each day.
Blanca didn't go out as we didn't want her to get lost. She didn't have an opportunity to befriend with other cats in the district. They weren't keen on each other. Blanca in general wasn't keen on anyone. Cactu's were placed on a quite long sill along two very long windows in the living room from where ones could take a step to the terrace. Well, where we could take a step to the terrace but not Blanca after all. Cats from the district sometimes dropped by. One day Blanca and cats met on two sides of the window. They on the sill from the terrace side, she on the commode behind the cactus'. I don't even remember any more what was the deal. It was hard to establish the essence of the argument in all those confusion. My nervous girl decided to chase off the company with one desperate jump shemade for cactus' knocking them off one by one like tin soldiers from the shelf over the fireplace.
After that I don't remember plants at home any more. Nothing. Emptiness. So I moved out without the feeling that there should be any plants at home, because with no plants house is just a luggage room, empty box to keep people in. Like without dogs, but not totally. House without dogs is not even a box but only a misery. Years without even one plant. In the first appartment, the secound, the third. Herbs and flowers in the garden by all means though. So not without love to green in my heart but only without consciousness of how much the green gives. I saw the daylight few month ago while I was looking through the Openhouse magazine and I got hit by an article about people who I don't exactly remember what were they doing (so I was hit by it's ilustational side rather then the article itself) but they had loads of plant in their studio. In that moment I desired to have plants. The bigger and more hick, the better.
That is how my house plant party started.
***
From my family house I remember vaguely the living room being a jungle with huge ficus', palms, philodendrons and wall of climbing plants hanging above the table and peeping into guest's bowls of borsh during the Christmas Eve supper.
I remember also that one day my mum got up from the bed, smoke a cigarette to accompany her morning cup of coffee and threw away all 100 plants, just like that. Now she doesn't remember why she actually did that. There was a rumor those days that dumb cane excretes poisonous fumes into the air.
Then came the vogue for cactus'. Ball shaped with thorns long like from a weavers' spindle, long and hairy liake Yeti's penis, beautiful sculptures resembling limbs from Hundred Acre Wood.... The amount of cactus' was smaller then the prevoius various plants' as there were 60. Those days was the time of my First Communion but in opposite to my school friends I wasn;t dreaming about golden watch or new bike with balls on spokes. I wished to have a persian cat.
Blanca came to me in a wooden basket with big ribbon on her neck and was a beautiful tri colour kitty which as most of persians wasn't very simpatiqe and annouced her dissatisfaction to the whole world. She notoriously pissed to my dad's shoes as he was pushing her off his favourite armchair each day.
Blanca didn't go out as we didn't want her to get lost. She didn't have an opportunity to befriend with other cats in the district. They weren't keen on each other. Blanca in general wasn't keen on anyone. Cactu's were placed on a quite long sill along two very long windows in the living room from where ones could take a step to the terrace. Well, where we could take a step to the terrace but not Blanca after all. Cats from the district sometimes dropped by. One day Blanca and cats met on two sides of the window. They on the sill from the terrace side, she on the commode behind the cactus'. I don't even remember any more what was the deal. It was hard to establish the essence of the argument in all those confusion. My nervous girl decided to chase off the company with one desperate jump shemade for cactus' knocking them off one by one like tin soldiers from the shelf over the fireplace.
After that I don't remember plants at home any more. Nothing. Emptiness. So I moved out without the feeling that there should be any plants at home, because with no plants house is just a luggage room, empty box to keep people in. Like without dogs, but not totally. House without dogs is not even a box but only a misery. Years without even one plant. In the first appartment, the secound, the third. Herbs and flowers in the garden by all means though. So not without love to green in my heart but only without consciousness of how much the green gives. I saw the daylight few month ago while I was looking through the Openhouse magazine and I got hit by an article about people who I don't exactly remember what were they doing (so I was hit by it's ilustational side rather then the article itself) but they had loads of plant in their studio. In that moment I desired to have plants. The bigger and more hick, the better.
That is how my house plant party started.
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