Talking heads

There's a famous TV ad here in Australia that has become part of our folklore, and the line that everyone remembers from that ad is "oh my God, the chips!". This refers to the person who puts some potato chips on to deep-fry, then the phone rings, then the conversation distracts her.... next thing you know the kitchen is on fire. Hence "Oh my God, the chips".

This morning, I had a far less fiery, far less dangerous moment, when it occurred to me "Oh my God, the succulents!". As it turns out, it has all worked out rather well. The shed hasn't burnt down, the fire brigade was not needed, and Pam's mum is getting some more succulent cuttings coming her way. When I realised that I had completely forgotten about some leaf cuttings I had taken for her, about five weeks ago, I wondered what had become of them.

Life, babies, new succulents coming through, that's what! Talk about a ferocious will to live, this little graptoveria (well, I think it's one of those) is ready to be put in a pot.

Several weeks ago, I had uprooted numerous baby succulents as complete plants, potted them up then took them up to Pam's mum, Val's, snazzy new townhouse. Val is a great gardener, and though she has downsized the residence there's still sunshine and space, both on the front porch and sunny rear balcony, to grow herbs, succulents and flowers in pots. In addition to the rapid-start bunch of potted whole plants we took up to her, I took some leaf cuttings from assorted succulents and left them in an old metal baking tin in the shed, to dry off for a couple of weeks prior to potting on. And then I forgot all about them.

This morning, when my brain finally kicked into gear, I went out to check on them, and all of them have sprouted babies and roots and want to get down to business. All I really need to do is lay them down on some lightly moistened soil, and they'll do the rest.

I liked the look of these little sprouted heads so much I arranged them in a circle, like a bunch of talking heads in the village square solving the world's problems, or at least exchanging the latest juicy gossip.

Succulents are plants which really don't need a gardener at all. I imagine that if leaves are broken off by passing animals, then scattered on the ground, those leaves will soon enough sprout roots and up will come another succulent plant, and so the hardy little colony grows. I know I've said this before, but out in the garden, I keep on saying to myself: "Ain't Nature wonderful?"