So I retrieved it and stuck it in the urn that's temporarily sitting atop a pedestal in the corner--I have yet to repot a palm that's supposed to be there ensconsed (that's probably some kind of grammatical misconstruction and if it is not it is certainly pretentious and....eh. Sometimes the way things dribble forth is the way they dribble forth).
The urn (which will move elsewhere shortly) needed something, having lost its centerpiece twice this past summer, because I was too lazy to get off the porch in the blast furnace heat and inspect the garden for drought-related disasters. So now the trailing greens and purple wandering jew hoist an insipidly-hued focal point that has all the charm of a wet pink Kleenex. Better than nothing I suppose.
OH WHY do the wrong things curl up and die?
Perhaps because this is a cactus dipshit?