BAMBOOzled

I can grow things.  Let's be very clear on this.  If it requires a tractor, a plow, perhaps a combine or baler, I can grow it.  I can plant it, grow it, harvest it, store it, haul it, you name it.

If it requires dirt, and can be nurtured with a hoe and a hose, I can grow it.  I can plant it, grow it, can it, pickle it, jell it, dry it, freeze it, cook it, and feed a small nation.

If it lives indoors and has to be tended to daily, it's dead. If it likes artificial light, it's dead.  If it requires special water and food in little packets, it's dead.

Until I met these guys.  Daughter #1 sent a surprise package last year with a note saying, "You've been BAMBOOzled!"  And I was.  These are the greatest houseplants in the history of mankind. This was just a baby bamboo when it arrived, only 6 inches tall with two little leaves. Now it's a small tree.

The first one survived so well she gave me another. I really like the planter it came in.  It's a fancy bamboo- all curly. It's been trained.  I can just see it- "Here bamboo, c'mon girl, roll over!  That's a good girl.  Curl!  Curl!!"

Then I bought one at the Farmer's Market in St. Louis and gave it to the Whee for her room.  She likes her bamboo with bling.

Any way you dress it up, bamboo is the houseplant for you!  If your green thumb lives outdoors, anyway.