Happy Hattie

Day 220: Longevity is not something a person normally considers when bringing a houseplant into their home. We may remember that the last orchid we purchased at great detriment to our grocery budget survived less than a month, or that the Maranta ("Prayer Plant") turned leggy after half a year, and that all attempts to prune it back into the compact shape which had attracted us in the first place failed miserably. We may recall grocery-store African violets with brown and soggy stems, a Ficus holding onto its last few leaves in a dark corner of the dining room, withered begonias, jade trees gone silvery with Botrytis mildew. Overall, when getting a houseplant, we don't expect it to live forever. In fact, we generally accept that its lifespan is less than that of a cat or dog, and we're fine with that. But every now and then, there is a notable exception to the rule. My Hatiora was started from a slip between 40 and 50 years ago. It has had a few rough patches to get through, but it is still in a four-inch pot, and still rewarding me with its beautiful flowers. It has endured underwatering, sunburning and chills with very little complaint other than the occasional dropped tip. And whether its correct taxonomy places it in Rhipsalidopsis or Hatiora has ceased to concern me. What matters is that Hattie (as I call her) appears to be happy under my care.