Five months ago, or BA (before the accident), I purchased two flats of tiny succulents. It was a case of being dazzled by a greenhouse full of gorgeous plants for sale. The flats were works of art in themselves, each consisting of 8 rows with 8 plants of various types, from bronze rozettes to pink edged ears to green spikes. Some went into the new garden beds, tucked among the rocks. Some went into pots for gifts. Many were left to languish outside with morning sun, untended through the hot summer, rootbound in their 2" pots.
With the return of mobility, my biggest job has been cleanup work. The downstairs infirmary, the neglected and ravaged studios, the garden all need attention. I can't turn around without seeing something begging for help. Those beautiful little plants tugged at my heart until I came to their rescue.
I decided to pot them up to bring into the eastern window of my studio. They were dry as a bone, but making last gasp efforts to reproduce. Considering the heat we've had this summer, they lived up to their water cagy reputation to make it through. With a little potting soil and a drip of water, now I have the lovely orange stars and grey green rosettes of these echeverias, commonly known as "hens and chicks," gracing my studio.
Now I just need a few more pots.