Pots

Pots.  We seem to have them everywhere.  There are big ones, small ones, fat ones, skinny ones, ones that squiggle and squirm.  The squiggling and squirming is an assumption.  I am thinking that if there are earth worms in there, that is what they may be doing.
We used to have a couple of pot shops in our neighbourhood that have since closed down.  One was really nice to visit, but I must admit I only ever bought one thing there.  It was a statue of a sleeping Mexican.  I so wondered if it would survive the trip home, the way it clunked every time I turned the corner.  It survived, but all it does is sit.  It never moves unless I move it.  That is rare, as it is made of cement and really heavy.
The other place was “The Pot Man.”  Admittedly there are a number of them about, but this place seemed to sell more pots with different designs on them.  The shop is now a car yard.  Sure I can get pots at Bunnings and Woolies and any number of stores, but to me, there is such a uniformity about what can be purchased.  That is a personal thing.
It is a bit like how I feel about clothing these days.  It seems I can get any shirt I want as long as it is stripped, checked or plain.  Once upon a time it seemed unique designs were more abundant.  I went by a clothing store one time and saw a shirt I felt I had to have.  I got it and was told sometime later “that shirt is so you.”  These days it seems a  person is more likely to be seen wearing the same thing.
Anyway we have a number of pots.  And every time we purchase a new plant it comes in a plastic pot.  We have kept a sample of all, but only keep some pots now.  If we kept them all we would have so many this place would be identified as “the pot place.”  That would drive me potty (that is really bad I know.  Put it down as an age thing).
We have a number of large pots but one is no more.  The next door neighbour gave us some plants.  We put them in big pots but one plant just continued to grow.  It wasn’t going to let a pot stand in the way of it realizing it’s potential.  It cracked the pot.  For a while a bungy cord held it together, and then it was broken up and used as base material for a number of plants in pots.
Merril had a couple of plants that were in pots that we have put in the ground.  Since going into the ground boy have they grown.  It is like they have been let loose.  They are now more than twice my height despite cut backs.
What I have found, is that plants in pots often seek ground, and the only way to stop them is to have a base.  There are a number of pot plants that look real healthy, and it is only in investigating we find the tap root has gone through the hole in the bottom of the pot, and the plant is feeding off the soil.
We think we have plants in all the locations we want in our yard, and now all plants purchased go into pots.  There will come a day when we say enough is enough, but we are not there yet.