The best thing about a plant addiction is that it is self-limiting. As the number of plants increases, eventually you run out of space, time, or energy. And even if you don't, the plants have a way of declining as they compete for limited windowsill spots, or when they are so close together that the bugs have a little highway to zip from pot to pot. So, unless you are unusually involved, there is likely to be some natural attrition. I'm addicted to plants, no doubt about it. But I tend to cycle and collect plants in a certain family. After several years, I've mastered the culture for those, or else I've decided they don't work well in my conditions or they are simply too darn fussy. Then I give them away, or throw them out, or leave them outside too long in the fall until they freeze. After about a year, I start obsessing with a new plant family. My first love was african violets. Then big foliage plants to fill space when I was younger and couldn't afford much furniture. Then fancy foliage plants after I started working for a plant company and fell in love with all the exotic, expensive ones! Then pond plants. Then hibiscus. Currently getting into orchids. I can really relate to marquest's comment, "I have to own every plant at least once before I die." I guess I'll live a long time!

decobug, you beat me to it. I was at HD a couple of weeks ago on an errand and the big wad of roses in Armstrong pots not too far from the door caught my eye, drawing me over like a magnet, I had no control just to 'look'. ;-) As you say, some had mildew and I thought to myself, "gee, good to know, glad they're not spraying". And @tao, yes, they were too crowded as they always are and the ones in the back were dry as a bone. I actually told the manager about it who sent someone to see about it. The folks that work there just don't get that you can't just give them a spray like the rest of the plants, they all need a decent drink. In the end, I decided I 'needed' an Intrigue to replace two that finally croaked, it will go up to our mountain place where the mildew will be less and look nice with a rose of sharon, I just love it's color. I also needed a Veteran's Honor for my husband who has made a memorial for his dad with all his navy ribbons and a Cinco de Mayo which is my new favorite color splash and very smelly, too. Could I have ordered them, I guess, but I usually don't order common stuff because I don't want enough to pay for shipping.

Thank you. The brugmansia is one of my crosses from a few yrs ago that just finally bloomed this fall before it froze here. It is one of those that likes to get tall first I guess. It had a few darker blooms after that one, so I think (and hope) it will get darker blooms on it in the spring. eloise I didnt know you had finches. Those babies are sneaky that way. I used to have zebra finches and lovebirds. They all kept having so many babies that I finally gave them all to my mother LOL! I still have our parrots though. I always wanted to get some of the Lady Gouldian (sp) finches. They are so pretty. Hey Will, guess what? I have guineas too lol. They sure are some characters! Wild, crazy and super wierd but also loveable. I think they make good watchdogs. They let us know the second anything out of the ordinary is going on. Bill your (or shall I say your wife's) friendly chickens sound like some of mine. I have this one blue ameraucana female who I named nasty Nellie because she wants all the attention and sticks to you like glue once you enter her pen. She is nasty to the other chickens who try to get attention. Alot of ours are sweet and want to be petted...even the roosters. I go outside and yell, "Hey Babieeeesss" and all these big ol evil looking Roosters come running up to get petted lol.

What hilarity! Love the fun posts, and learning a bit about y'all in the bargain. For those who have ever read my few posts, I'm the clueless one, the transplant subset. If there's subsets of subsets, I would be the transient transplant. I spend my life following my spouse's work, geographically speaking. I pack houses, and unpack. I accumulate all manner of flower pots and containers, then downsize, give away, and move again. My gardening efforts are full of hearty enthusiasm, as well as serial plant murdering (I like to blame it on local plant ignorance and not my PJIC disease, *plants jump into the cart*). Since we never get to live in one place long enough for either the humans or the plants to put down deep roots, we transient transplants collect any and all plants fervently, via swaps, pinching starts at public malls and other venues, and the local garden center. Then, we moan and groan about disposing of our pot ghetto when the next move is announced. Transient transplants spend way too much time covering up and disguising the objectionable architectural features of our current rental digs. We creatively hang plants, put up fishing line trellises to cover up nasty window views, and annoy the neighbors with our homemade garden accessories, obtained in pre-dawn trash-day scrounging. These charming accents (yes, even the old commodes planted with petunias), feed our collector (#6) genes, which we fervently nurture upon arrival in our latest garden planting zone. We don't consciously try to be specialists (#7s), but once we latch onto a type of plant that we don't kill in the newest climate, we grow it in every color known to the species. Oh, and yes, we have even been known to dumpster-dive in #2 and #4's trash bins, where the plant pickings are amazingly healthy, lush, and green. We transient transplants have become experts at covertly watching your work through our mis-matched window coverings (read - sheets), knowing there's gonna be really good pickings in YOUR trash this week. This serves to help our garden budget go further, knowing we must fill up our pots and fronts of landlord's planting beds to overflowing in such a short period of time, before we have to frantically put it all back, to get ready for the next household moving cycle. When the next move is announced, we lovingly dig up, label, package, and mail starts of all these frantically planted pot ghettos to our Northern friends, for safekeeping until we get settled into our next digs. In actuality, our Northern plant recipients can't even remember our names, or why they are receiving these care-packages of dirt and mushy, frozen green blobs, resembling a refrigerator science experiment....