It is the effort that counts

The weather forecast was for “frost on the pumpkins.”  Unfortunately, the forecast was right.

In the world of gardening, it’s a forecast that causes me to spring into action.  Some plants need to be put to bed. Others must be brought inside. The colorful annuals get a regretful look with words of thanks and goodbye.

I concentrate on the plants I hope to save—geraniums, mandovilla, pathos, philodendron, hibiscus, asparagus fern, Swedish ivy, spider plants, and shamrock.  I know that, with good care, many of these will do fine inside once they get over their shock. Others will struggle, lose their leaves, and need lots of gentle tending. Some, regardless what I do, might die.  

While I was outside a neighbor walked over and pointed out that it would be easier to let the cold kill them all and just start with new plants next spring.  “Why bother?” she asked.

I set down my trowel and thought about it.

“I suppose I do this for the same reason my doctors and nurses work so hard.” I said. “If they hadn’t bothered to try to save me, I wouldn’t be here repotting a shamrock I’ve had for 32 years, or hauling in this 10-year-old geranium. We wouldn’t be even having this discussion.”

My neighbor laughed. “Good point,” she said.

By the end of the day I had one pot left. In it I could put yet another spider plant (it had been a VERY good year for them). Or … I eyed the hibiscus. It hadn’t bloomed this summer. In fact, one of its branches looks dead, one is fine and the other is bare but getting new growth. Should I use my last pot for a sure save, or should I try yet another year to save this once-beautiful, now pathetic plant?

I thought of my neuro surgeons and nurses, of effort /risk vs. a sure bet/ win. Then I filled my last pot and brought it inside. Which plant do you think I picked?