A Supremely Inconsequential Workplace Domestication.

I would like to say, first and foremost, that my tiny little blog is, as of yesterday and the day before that, teetering on exactly five thousand views. Now, I realize that at least ten percent, possibly fifteen percent, of that is from me, myself, and I. However, I would like to say a quick Thank you, although I imagine your time could have been wiser spent reading BuzzFeed to everyone that decided to see what was happening in my world. Also, I would like for the next big hallmark of viewership to hang precisely at ten thousand views. So mitigate that amongst yourselves.

I have recently come into ownership of a moderately large office space. It contains a desktop that stretches from one corner of the room to the opposite corner, complete with windowsill and mobile cabinetry. The first order of business was to rent out some space to a Sansevieria plant (that Snake Plant from the local nursery), followed in close order by a Thai Mint* plant.

*Quick aside - just as my husband's most regretful act is not responding at a hockey game (long story), I have now experienced my most regretful act. I cannot believe I did not buy that Strawberry Mint plant the last time I was at the nursery. I explicitly asked for it this most recent time I visited, and they said they won't be purchasing that type of herb until next Spring. What kind of non-commercialism un-oppotunistic bullsh is that? 

While I cannot show you the entirety of my office because of the absolute mess it actually is implication, I will show the two cohorts I have dragged into the 10' by 10' square.

Minty McMinter-Face.

And his trusty sidekick, Filter McFilter-Potten. 

Thus far, I have received only the top compliments for my exotic plant, and the utmost screw-faced questioning looks for the mint plant. They'll all thank me when it's Mojito Day at the office.

Now for the honorable mentions at the nursery this go-around (not including the seventeen types of lavender that nobody will buy).

The majestic Shrimp Plant. Who knew this existed. 

Forgot to catch the species. We shall call it the Cheshire Cat Tall-Ominous Fern. 

This reminded me of the Bleeding Heart Philodendron. 

It was mighty rainy during my trip to the nursery. I may have started off on a trip to the antique store and, upon realizing the antique store did not open until an hour or so later (which was not conveniently located on their website), perhaps I took a backwoods way to the local plant store. About seven minutes in, I stumbled upon the following sight.

An almost medieval use of a single-way, bridge-like archway. There were no cars behind me. There was only one car in front of me, from which I discerned the proper way to proceed through the tunnel.

I suppose I cannot explain the feeling you get when you happen upon a place like this. Perhaps it was the rain, maybe even the charged storm air, or the wonderment of where the heck am I going anyways? At any rate, I have this unreasonably strong urge to go back there, park along the roadside, and sit in absolute quiet to determine if gnomes or fairies are at the root of the strange architecture.

To top off the garden-rich episode of Anna Tries To Keep Things Alive, it would only be fair to mention that my local grocery store had a sale. An Everything-Is-Half-Price sale, concerning all of their garden stuffs. After much deliberation (during the time spent between the fish aisle and the frozen pizza aisle), I decided to adopt a Delicata Squash plant.

... but it was ninety-nine cents!

The holding device was also half-off. 

Luckily, I haven't had the chance to forget to water it because it's been raining off-and-on every day this week. If this keeps up, I'll be enjoying delicious Delicata squash in August with nary a hand-watering to be had.