The True Confessions of a Serial Houseplant Killer
How two horticulturalists and one life-affirming wisewoman saved columnist Michelle Slatalla from a lifetime of botanical guilt
DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS, I keep killing my houseplants. “Please don’t leave me, cranky little man,” I implored the other day, stroking a plant’s wrinkly, desiccated limb. But it was too late. One of Mr. Fern’s crispy brown leaves fell to the floor, and another old friend was gone for good.
Mr. Fern had fabulous fronds when I brought him home and put him on the mantel, where he added feathery elegance to the living room. But a few months later as I was dumping his remains into the compost bin alongside other victims—including...