When my grandmother died a number of years ago, she left a lot of beloved, flourishing houseplants. I have two of them: a Wandering Jew and a baby jade plant. My sister got the mother plant (at least 2 feet across and 3 feet high before it got frail) and we can only guess at its age. We have worried and fussed over our grandmother's jade plant, with much less success than she did.
After a sunny summer on the balcony, my jade was outgrowing its pot and splaying dangerously.
Now, almost two weeks post-repotting, I think it will be okay. Worry. Fuss fuss.
I loved my grandmother dearly and she died before I came into my own as a homemaker, before my children were born. Tending her plants, sewing, and using up leftovers keeps me close to her.
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