I have a plant.

My husband can attest to my being a huuuuuge whiner about my sad, empty little pots, three of them to be exact, that have sat vacant for almost all of their existence. One of them we used for keys at our old apartment and one truly did have a plant in it for a brief moment in history, the other has had the loneliest job of never holding anything - not even our junk mail.

So when we made the move I was determined to use my lovely pots for plants and plants only. I sat them outside our door so they could make their home there and I resolved to put plants in them immediately. Well, it's been a while. I'm so ashamed when I come home and I see unidentifiable bugs and weird things growing inside their hollow shells. I KNOW this is dramatic, but I really do feel strongly about it.

This is the hang up, it's a fun fact about me if you don't know it already. I'm an all or nothing kind of girl. So if I'm going to have plants, I'm going to be the best plant keeper ever. I want to know about them and how to take care of them and know what they are called. That's a commitment, so every time I go somewhere with all these high hopes of purchasing three little plants, I back out. All the doubts flood in...I'm going to kill it, I have no clue what that even is or what kind of soil to put it in. I don't want to fail.


Chris and I did stumble upon this lovely little shop in Venice one day. We were there for the only reason we've ever gone to Venice and that of course is Intelligentsia coffee. (Side note: this was also the day that Barry Watson's kid ran in to me with a scooter, no lie, and Barry apologized to me and I was all "that's Matt from 7th heaven" in my head of course. I was way cooler out loud.) So back to the shop. There were beautiful succulents everywhere and a lady was in the back garden potting all of them and I all I wanted to do was talk with her and learn from her all day. She said I should come back with my pots next time and she'd fill them with me. Yes please. Well I can't excuse driving all the way to Venice just for that, so I'll have to get Chris all drool-y and talk about going to get a latte. Yes. That is precisely what I should do.

So even though I hesitate, I don't commit to being a plant person while I am a pot owner and have been for years (that sounds funny right?) I still whine to my husband allll the time about my empty pots and how I need to go get plants. I linger when we are at stores that have them and it rustles up all my emotions on the subject.  Chris is the strongest man alive, I'm a disaster most of the time and he just smiles, laughs, and loves me. Chris is also the most thoughtful person and he knows how to love me in my love language, which is gifts. Love giving them, love receiving them. Partially because I looooove surprises and a gift is almost always a surprise.

The day just so happened to be valentine's day but knowing my husband he would've done this for me any day. I got home from work not expecting much because we said no gifts and that we were just going to eat a nice dinner at home. Well, he already broke the gifts one because he bought me Hunger Games. Booooya. I was so happy. So I reeeeally wasn't expecting anything more. But I open the door and this sweet man had a potted plant sitting on the counter for me. Not just any plant but a beautiful orchid, my most favorite of favorites. I loved her instantly. Then I freaked out because I'm scared to kill her. BUT I've got a plant. And there's no turning back.

Note the card. This cutie patootie of a man sent me on a scavenger hunt around our apartment laying out the evenings menu which was all of my favorite things. This I will now brag about via a million pictures.