Last time, if you remember (and those of you who remember watching “Rocky & Bullwinkle” are now smiling), I have a lemon tree growing in the office. I started it from a sprouted seedling, and it has gotten quite large. This week it took to leaning in its pot. A kindly co-worker used the stick from one of the miniature American flags surrounding the pot to prop it up when I was out of the office. It needs a new pot.
The quest to nurture this plant means having to upgrade its pot, just like parents change kids’ shoes every other week during growth spurts. Dutifully I popped into the craft and garden store for a pot, only to find that all of the larger pots had no saucers. The salesperson claimed there were none, but I’m sure they exist because there are placement holes drilled into the bottoms of the pots. They lost a sale.
Being pressed for time, I went to SLR–what I have dubbed WalMart (Store of Last Resort)–and spent a frustrating ten minutes in the potting aisle with an assortment of pots which, after the week I’ve had, all look like the wrong size. If I had been smart, I would have measured the old pot beforehand, but the past week was a mental whirlwind of activity, and my brain had no room for a pot measurement. So I did the next best thing: I measured the pot I liked and will check it against the current one so I can return and buy the right size later in the week.
Meanwhile, the tree is still enjoying the sunny side of the office, though at a slightly tilted point of view.
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