Here's the kind of tzimmes I find myself in as Spring approaches:
There are certain plants that passed the winter in a sorry state, spindly and barely clinging to life. So bad did they look that I kept them nestled against healthier specimens, like the set of sticks with bitty leaves that you can barely make out in the photo at left.
Friend Maggie gave me that plant last year, when she and Gary came to our Passover Seder (which we do because we slapped two religions together to make a family and therefore we celebrate everything...or at least everything pleasurable).
So this plant was a lovely little bushy thing and I did have its name tag with it for months and months and then lost it...so I have no recollection of what it's called but I do remember that the tag said it was a favorite in Victorian conservatories. I also recall that the plant had small but sprightly orange flowers -- or it did when I received it.
