I’ve always owned houseplants – but not, it must be said, always the same houseplants.
Of the handful of plants I tend to acquire every year, only one or two survive to see in the next. It’s not that I knowingly neglect them: I try to be attentive to their needs, water them regularly, assess their lighting. Every now and again I’ll even chuck them some plant food. But sadly it seems my enthusiasm for green matter is not matched by a green thumb.
Right now, there are about 20 plants dotted around my flat. Some are in rude health, but others are very obviously near death. Worse still, what distinguishes the first group from the second isn’t clear to me.
I’m reminded of when I was learning to cook. For a good while, I could just about follow a recipe, but lacked intuition, judgment and skill. I may be able to keep a plant alive (particularly if it’s of a hardy variety), but I’m doing nothing to help it thrive.
I would like to be able to care for my plants, and register and meet their needs, the same way I do my cats – and to feel confident doing so. Claire Bright, an indoor plant specialist and co-owner (with her partner Peter Weatherill) of B’Leaf in Norwich, gamely agreed to come over and help.
It all starts with soil
I ensure the first plant that Bright assesses is one that reflects relatively well on me: one of my many pothos. I’m aware that it’s a low bar; pothos is also known as devil’s ivy because it is basically impossible to kill, even in darkness.
“That seems really healthy,” Bright agrees. But then she takes a closer look. “It would probably benefit from repotting, just a change of soil. You see it’s got white on top, and feels a bit crumbly? That means it’s a bit mouldy – the soil is not as good quality as it could be.”
As we go from plant to plant, this proves a recurring refrain. Even those that are doing well could be doing better with new soil to replenish the nutrients. It may also extend the life of those that are struggling.
Bright recommends using house plant-specific soil and, when repotting, to remove as much of the old stuff from the roots as I can.
Don’t forget your roots
As we go around my flat, I am embarrassed to discover that many of my plants have been sitting in water inside their pots, increasing their risk of root rot, Bright says.
I did actually know this – but I pretend I didn’t, to save face. It goes to show how easy it is to overlook the basics when doing the weekly watering whip-round.
Some of my pots are making my job harder, apparently. Bright points to one with a built-in saucer: convenient for avoiding spills, but “kind of troublesome” for checking on the plant’s roots. When they start poking out of the bottom holes, it’s probably time to upsize to a slightly larger pot.
One of my pothos is planted directly into a porcelain pot, with no opportunity for drainage. This means extra care is needed to avoid overwatering, says Bright. Some people hedge their bets by misting the soil – but that doesn’t reach the roots, she points out. “You’re not actually watering it.”
Best practice, she says, is to stand your plants in water for 15 to 20 minutes before removing them. “I shower mine,” says Bright (not at the same time as showering herself, she clarifies).
It is more faff than giving them a quick splash from a watering can, but it greatly reduces the risk of overdoing it.
Bright also says that “most plants prefer rainwater” to tap water: “You could put a bucket out …” she suggests, hopefully. But I know my limits.
Let your plants tell you what they need
Overwatering is the most common mistake made by houseplant novices, says Bright.
Watering daily, or even every other day, is overkill for most plants (“unless you’ve got a very hot house”). Weekly is a better rule of thumb, though that too will need adjusting to the environment, the time of year and the plant in question.
Bright shows me how to check whether my plant needs water by testing the soil, a few inches deep. “People touch the top and say it’s dry, but if you actually stick your finger in, you’ll probably find it’s damp. Let them mostly dry out before watering.”
I could also invest in a moisture meter, she suggests, which would help inform my judgment and get me into a routine.
If a plant is wilting, it may be craving humidity – a separate concern to watering. Before drenching the soil, Bright suggests giving it a spritz from a spray bottle and seeing if it perks up. (That’s especially the case when you’ve got the heating on, she adds.)
Bright also recommends, every so often, dusting your plants’ leaves to improve their absorption of light – she uses a microfibre cloth.
Life finds a way, given a chance
Some of my plants seem halfway between life and death. Bright shows me how to tidy them up, to improve their appearance and give them a fighting chance at recovery.
“You can either just cut the entire leaf off, or cut along the brown part – not into the green,” she says.
My most sickly plant is actually a rescue: a monstera that I found on the street with a sign saying “FREE”. It has seen better days.
“You can see that this has been forgotten about, and not watered – then drowned,” says Bright. It also looks like it’s been burned, perhaps by a radiator.
But despite this torture, Bright points out, “there are still signs of life”.
She suggests trimming off all the rubbish-looking foliage – some of it comes off now, with a little tug – then removing it from its pot and cleaning the roots with a shower hose, “just in case it’s got bugs”, Bright says, ominously.
With fresh soil, it may well bounce back; it also has time on its side, it being the start of spring. But Bright cautions against making any big moves, such as transferring it to a bigger pot, until it’s in better health.
On that, Bright says, I can trust my eyes. If a plant is green, upright, growing and otherwise looks healthy and happy, leave it be. If it looks like it’s bursting out of its pot, give it a new one. If leaves are dropping off, something needs adjusting, such as humidity, water or light.
There may also be pests. My rope plant is not just covered with mould; Bright also finds mealybugs (“the devil’s work,” she says darkly).
She prescribes wiping down the leaves with horticultural soap, then laying diatomaceous earth down on the soil. But, in the meantime, it should be kept away from my other plants.
A change is as good as a rest
Sometimes, simply moving a plant around your home can greatly improve its prospects.
My lipstick plants are doing well on my kitchen window sill, and not just because of the bright light. “They like humidity, so when you’re cooking, they’re probably really enjoying that,” Bright says.
The Swiss cheese plant cuttings next to them, however, may benefit from being moved a foot or so into the shade. In general, says Bright, “if a plant looks like it’s not thriving, move it”.
It doesn’t have to be to a different room; even slightly further from a light source can make a difference. “Not a lot of plants want to be in direct sunlight – you’re just going to cook it.” Then, leave it be for a week or two, to give it time to adjust. The impact can be transformative.
A straggly cheese plant has, on closer inspection, been busy growing new leaves since I moved it to the top of my kitchen cupboards. Bright suggests I let it do its thing – at least until the season changes again, and with it the conditions. Come winter, she says, she has to find new spots for many of her plants, away from radiators or cold windows.
Don’t limit yourself to ‘easy’ or ‘hard’
My mother bought me an orchid from M&S three years ago. Not only is it still alive, it has bloomed each year. Lately, however, it has developed unsightly, puffy-looking tendrils spilling out over its pot.
I assume that this means it’s game over, but Bright says not. Its new appendages are air roots, seeking out moisture. It may benefit from being repotted with orchid-specific soil, after it’s finished flowering, and some “orchid food” – but for now it’s healthy and “obviously happy”, says Bright.
People often come to B’Leaf and say they’ve “killed every orchid” they’ve ever owned, she says; I’ve just got lucky that my warm, bright front room is “the perfect environment”. Her only tips for me are to keep it in a clear pot, so I can see the roots, and to water it when they’ve turned a silvery colour.
It’s a lesson in not limiting yourself to peace lilies and bloody pothos. While some varieties are more resilient than others, if you have the right conditions there’s no reason any plant shouldn’t thrive. For those hoping to level up from the basics, Bright suggests one of the many indoor varieties of begonia: “They’ve been really popular at the shop.”
Set yourself up to succeed
I’m learning that plants are less difficult to care for than I’d assumed – but also more demanding: I can get away with less frequent watering, but I also need to be more curious and observant about them day to day if they’re to truly thrive.
“A lot of it is just buying the wrong plant for the wrong spot, or thinking it requires more than it actually does,” Bright says. I could give myself a head start, she suggests, by researching my plants before I get them. I have to laugh: I don’t think I’ve ever deliberately set out to get a plant – they somehow just make their way home with me. But I see her point. By selecting a plant to suit your vacant spot, you greatly increase its chances of survival, regardless of what you end up doing to it.
Bright gives very tailored advice to her customers. “If people can tell us where it’s going and what the environment is, we can show them plants that will do best in that space.”
There’s no shame in starting over
With many of my plants, Bright expresses surprise that they are doing as well as they are, given my neglect.
That said, there is no virtue in hanging on to a clearly dead plant.
One of mine is little more than a stump planted in soil, but I’ve kept it around in the vague hope of it making a miraculous recovery. As soon as I present it to Bright, I know from her expression: no chance.
“What did this used to be?” she asks, politely.
I chuck it in the bin and immediately feel lighter.
My calatheas, however, I still hold out hope for. Having spent the past year growing happily, they recently had a breakdown with no apparent trigger. I’ve tried them in a sunnier spot, and now a less sunny spot; cut back on their water and removed the dead leaves. Now, I play the waiting game.
Bright can’t help me; she’s given up on calatheas. “They hate my house, so I don’t take them home any more – I’ve banned myself,” she says. It’s heartening to know that sometimes even green thumbs are not enough.