Ya’ll know I’m no master gardener. But some neglect makes even me wince. Or feel superior. Or both.

This formerly lovely hosta came to this state in the parking lot of my son’s preschool, which is located in the basement of an unnamed Baptist Church here in the ‘Burg. The above plants showed up in the midst of some gardener’s very ambitious push that left the parking lot’s little circular bed bursting with sedum, lillies and big, stripey hosta. (Maybe a volunteer/parishioner’s work?) I was particularly attuned to the arrival of these plants, as I’d been bemoaning my monochrome, ubiquitous dark green hosta and wistfully eying the varigated beauties that seemed to taunt me from everyone else’s yard (blue-green, green-and-white, yellow-green… sigh).

So… the invisible gardener planted a lot of stuff. And brought in some other plants. And then these two hosta were left, sitting atop a big black weed cloth-encased pile of dirt in the parking lot. And there they sat. And sat. And sat. For weeks without water, until they dried up into ugly, shriveled husks and someone got tired of them and threw them under a tree on the side of the lot.

Every day, as I dropped my son off for school, I noted the death-in-progress. I wondered what the hell happened to the gardener. (Did he/she die?) And how could any self-respecting congregation walk past those plants on the way to church every Sunday and not save them? Can I get a little Holy Water here?

Of course, I contemplated rescuing stealing them. But I’ve suffered my own share of thefts, and I’m no plantjacker. Plus, even a heathen like myself pauses at stealing from a church.

Still, what these folks did was not Christian. I mean, WWJD? I bet he would have given those hosta a little drink. If not water, wine.

If the plants had lived, they would have looked like this. A little dry, maybe… but ALIVE.

I’m not gonna lie. I did something similar to some raspberry  and strawberry plants earlier this summer. (Though I did give them water.) I bought them, left them in their too-small containers and didn’t plant them… and then they died a sad death.

But that experience and these abused hosta have inspired me to immediately plant everything else I’ve bought this summer. And give the poor plants a fighting chance!


About plantkiller

Paysha Rhone is a wife, mother, former-journalist-turned-PR-maven and bad mamajama killing plants in the Victorian splendor of Fitchburg, Massachusetts.
This entry was posted in Flower jacking, OPP and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Hosta(ge)

  1. LaNeia says:

    Wrong plant in the wrong place maybe. i have the same variety of hosta as the one pictured and mine is NOT doing any better than the ones you keep passing. I think it gets too much sun. Meantime, 20 inches down, a blue hosta is thriving – same sun exposure. But I am suspecting that that particular variety is just not hardy at all – to sun at least.

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