The gentle and sometimes forgotten art of husband-manipulation, but it's actually about plants

 

The gentle and sometimes forgotten art of husband-manipulation, but it's actually about plants

6 March 2024

It’s official. I’ve stopped killing plants. Most of the time. Or should I rather rephrase? I can now fairly safely say that I’ve stopped killing everything green. Look, I’m not saying that I don’t kill anything, but my success rate is definitely up. I’m probably at a solid 80% most of the time. Unless I’m dealing with a plant with a mean disposition. Yes, you actually get those. Sooooo dramatic!

So it all started with my eldest child, Luke. A few years ago, he did the absolute worst and most unthinkable thing. He moved out. How bloody rude! I vividly remember him being about 4 or 5 years old and promising me that he’d never leave me or move out. Hey, it was his suggestion. I was obviously thrilled, that in his 5 year old wisdom he decided this. And it just so happened to coincide with my wishes too. Win-win, right?

We had it all figured out. We’d buy a house next to ours, with a handy and cutesie little gate separating the two properties. I’d paint it red, but if he felt strongly about it, I’d consider green or blue. In fact, we toyed with the idea of a lovely ladder over the fence between the two properties. That way we could still do regular Friday evening movie and pizza nights and I’d be on hand to make special breakfasts over weekends, alternating between pancakes, flap jacks and waffles. I’d even weigh up my options on increasing my breakfast treat repertoire.

 

And then he simply left and moved to Stellenbosch. Rather rude if you ask me. This was NOT part of our deal. I thought we had a plan. Or rather an iron clad agreement. Pffffft! 5 year olds! What are they like? So flaky!

 

Alas, back to plants. So there I was, pining away cause Luke moved out. And I desperately needed something happy to think about, other than him moving out. And leaving me… In addition, I needed something to keep me busy. Firstly, I eye-level de-boyed his room (ensuring that his bed and pretty much everything he didn’t take with him when he moved out was still there, yet some bits were discreetly stuffed in cupboards bursting at the seams), but I made it more Helene friendly. Soft touches here and there. Created an office and desk space for myself, moved a few things around, decluttered, shifted some things, and made a happy place for me. Added some pics above the desk, my favourite Dr Seus pic, some Van Gogh prints, a few old colorful bottles, and then I picked a few hardy stubborn leaf-things from the garden that I hadn’t managed to kill yet. Personally, I was convinced that the plants that hadn’t snuffed it yet, were doing so to spite me. Or maybe they were simply testing their endurance and stamina? Either which way, there were a few die-hards in the garden. Mostly our bamboo/reed, which became invasive years ago. I think it was trying to claim the house for itself. We’re currently at a stand-off. But, back to my “office”, it actually started to look quite homey.

 

My super talented cousin, Jacques is the most incredible leathersmith and I remember seeing the most magnificent shelf in his home. A simple wooden plank, with leather straps and I asked him if he could maybe make me some straps. Lucky me, he gave me a set of straps. I raided the garage for a plank and immediately added my brand new shelf. Extremely impressed with my decorating skills by this stage. I’m a hoarder and collector of the very best kind. Or worst kind, depending on your perspective. Grant’s opinion fluctuates. Back to being an antiquarian/compiler/amasser/accumulator of things, I dug out a few bits and bobs and liberally sprinkled my newly decorated haven with my favourite things – stuff. Yay! Don’t you just love stuff? Such a delightfully broad description of simply anything. As well as everything.

 

However, I was never going to be spending money on doing this. And I only had so much space to fill, so once my office was dutifully cluttered, I had to find another space to spice up.

 

And then it dawned on me… I had this particularly ugly corner in our “garden”. Maybe I could do something there. It was more just a slab of cement, with vibracrete walls around it. Beeeeaaauuuriful! Our trailer used to stand there, two old discarded cement bird baths I was going to mosaic one day (had not done anything since I got them about 15 year prior), random cement block bricks, our three hideous black bins, some loose planks and other odds and ends as well as a plethora of leaves from the neighbour’s tree. Like properly ugly. Moreover, we absolutely NEVER use our front door. So every time we left home or came back, we had to walk past this eyesore. As did our guests. It had gotten to the point, where I didn’t even see it anymore. You know how that happens right? Selective blindness and all that. I simply averted my gaze without even knowing it. Looking straight through it multiple times a day. Hey, it’s probably a coping mechanism of sorts.

 

So I set my conniving sights on this spot and did what any good self respecting woman would do in a situation like this. I plotted and planned. Might even have made a mindmap of sorts. But basically, I made my long suffering husband, My Grantie, move the trailer. I vowed to find a different, yet still easily accessible spot for the bins, and I would incorporate the bird baths and anything else I could find to try to beautify this blemish on our property. But how to go about this endeavour? Well, that takes a wee bit of planning. And I love me a good old planning project.

 

Timing is everything when it comes to this. I gave My Grantie a three day lead time. Not that he was aware of this in the slightest. And I went about setting the stage. Always did have a penchant for acting… So I earmarked the Saturday for this project, which meant that besides plotting in advance, I kicked off my master plan on the Wednesday.

 

Started my campaign on Day One by looking morose and sad, “Cause I’m missing my boy so much and I need something to distract me. Can we listen to Norah Jones and Tori Amos again?”. Minimised wearing eyeliner. Always guaranteed to make me look emaciated and sick (read deathly unattractive). Sloffed around in unattractive PJ pants and hunched my shoulders. To be fair, I did still brush my teeth and shower. So I didn’t go full crazy on him. A girl’s got to have some standards and dental care is everything.

 

By the morning of Day Two, I suggested needing a project. Also mentioned Norah Jones and Tori Amos again and threw in some Sinead O’Connor for a bit of variety. You know, spice things up. By the evening of Day Two, I mentioned maybe trying gardening again. My statement was met with raised eyebrows and general concern for plant life everywhere. Pretended to agree with him. You know, not wanting to seem too eager. Or as if I had already planned everything (evil laugh in my head). Soundtrack for the evening of Day Two was, “Eric Clapton – Tears in Heaven”.  By the morning of Day Three, I suggested doing some necessary clearing out and possibly tackling the ugly corner, “cause it looks so bad when anybody comes here”. By the evening of Day Three, with a bit of gentle prodding from my side, mildly suggestive comments and some “spontaneous” suggestions, I could see that he was no longer looking as horrified and that he was warming to the idea considerably. Considered trying the “Celine Dion - My heart will go on” approach, but suspected that he’d see right through me, cause I’m not a Celine Dion fan at all. Overkill is a very dangerous thing and a trap one can easily fall into. After all, subtlety is the name of the long game. Thought if all else fails, I could resort to “REM – Everybody hurts”, if I needed to pull out the big guns. But I let that stew for a few hours. Just keeping it in my back pocket for in case.

 

By the time we went to bed on Day Three, it was all his idea to tackle the ugly corner. Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha!!! Pure evil genius! By the way, for any other notes and helpful tips on how to “manage-your-man”, please feel free to reach out to me. This is indeed a free service that I offer. At this stage. I’d consider doing a workshop if there’s enough interest. I’d like parties of 10 max. So might have to split multiple groups up. Note to self – side hustle business opportunity right here, baby!

 

By the morning of Day Four, we were all up bright and early and Amber and Cole got roped in too. Siestog! It was all "Daddy’s idea", so I told them that we should just humour him. He was taking Luke’s departure really hard. Fully playing on their emotions and their love for their Dad. Yes, I was overcome with a heady sense of power. Can you really blame me?

 

By the end of Day Four, the trailer had been moved, the bins were no longer an eyesore, the wood scraps moved and those that could not be repurposed chucked out. The bird baths were in position and filled with soil that I stole from an unused corner around the side of the house where nobody could see or even go if they wanted to. I even unearthed some previous projects that I had refused to get rid of because I just knew that I would get a use for them some day. And there you were. Old shutters and window frames up against the walls, any loose pots dotted around, odd bits and pieces I’d picked up from thrift shops and fallen in love with sprinkled about liberally, and a random sprig of greenery here and there.

 

And then I unleashed my master plan. I spread the word about attempting to garden. And the plant cuttings, they came a comin’! My grandparents, my mom, friends, aunts and uncles, kind neighbours and so the word spread. I was relentless. And slowly, bit by bit, it started to take shape. Miraculously, stuff grew! Who knew I could do it? I set the bar low though and went for succulents. Those little suckers are hard to kill. They’re delightfully stubborn. I also profusely thanked every person who gifted me with plant cuttings, but warned them that this was indeed an experiment. Plant genocide could not be guaranteed. Funny thing though, is that plant people are extremely kind. And super understanding. As well as wonderfully encouraging.

 

Perhaps it is the love with which they gave me the plants, or the well wishes or happy mojo? Look, I don’t question it. I’m just grateful. Stuff grew. Hesitantly at first, not trusting me. Can’t really blame them. But as the weeks passed, they started to grow even more. Cautious at first. Then hopeful. And finally positively thriving. Trusting the “new leaf” (see what I did there) that I had turned over. And they rejoiced in their new home!

 

I was finally a grown-up. I could grow plants. I could propagate. I could see progress.

 

Apart from growing my three children, it’s been my most successful growing project to date. One that gives me pleasure and joy on a daily basis. I still build on it daily. And truth be told, I can highly recommend it. The pure unadulterated pleasure of eating granadillas from your own garden is unrivalled. Not to mention the tomatoes by the gazillions (they only thrived for one season, and then sulked and decided to high tail it out of my garden). And don’t even get me started on Kappertjies, or rather Nasturtiums. Such happy little flowers.

 

So, gardening. Try it! Who knows, maybe you’re not a plant serial killer either.

 

Hey, if I can be reformed, anyone can!

Please feel free to check out my cousin, Jacques Lombard’s Website and Facebook page. The man is a creative genius!

Belt & Band

https://www.beltandband.com/

https://www.facebook.com/BeltandBand?mibextid=ZbWKwL

 

 Before pic for evidence. Trailer, gross bins and lots of scrap removed already by this stage. I had even swept!

 

My unknowing minion, working like a trojan. So grateful!

My stunning shelf, courtesy of the leather straps from my cousin Jacques Lombard from Belt & Band

Some more after pics. Think these were taken about a year ago. So squint your eyes and imagine further growth and even more plants.

Love, love, LOVE! Makes my heart so very, very happy!