Time to ‘Fess Up.

I have it in for Lurch, the ficus.

Remember Lurch? Here’s a picture from one of the posts about the curtains:

Lurch. Such as he is.

Here’s the back story on Lurch. One-and-a-half-score and a year ago, my grandparents swept into their local Bachman’s greenhouse and picked out great, lush plants to give each of their seven children as a Christmas gift. I remember being a little girl and seeing their sunroom filled with these plants. I remember my grandmother shooing the men out to warm up their cars so these precious plants wouldn’t perish in a Midwestern winter chill.

Over the years, Lurch grew. And grew. He was particularly fond of a tall entryway in my parent’s home and flourished in the sunlight. But as their nest emptied, my parents downsized. And Lurch came to live with me in my first house. And followed us to our current home, where he has occupied a space between our sectional and desk in the living room.

Lurch has overstayed his welcome, I fear. Especially that one branch that reaches over the monitor and blocks my view of the home computer screen. I’ve tried turning the plant to see if there’s another angle that would work, but then there’s a menacing branch that just grazes the top of your head while you sit on the sectional. I was giving up hope. My mother gave her blessing to just let the plant wander outdoors until it died of exposure.

My husband on the other hand…well, he’s a Master Gardener in his spare time. And to summarily do away with a plant because it has outgrown its space is unheard-of. He pruned Lurch over the weekend, to see if we could direct some of its growth. And he used some plant velcro to kind of bunch up some rogue branches and make it look a little more tree-like. It’s helped, but it’s not a solution.

It certainly didn’t help to see the living room without Lurch in it. To recognize how much more light came into the room and how much more open it felt. My mind opened up to the idea of using the wall occupied by Lurch to create an exhibit space for our son’s growing artwork skills. Something kind of like this.


What to do with a nearly 8-foot-tall ficus? That may or may not have an attitude?

I’m trying to find a new home for it within our home, for the time being. My husband is quite assured of Lurch’s general health – he’s not going to run towards the light any time soon (Lurch, that is. My husband too, hopefully). Darn it. And Lurch isn’t exactly lightweight, so to quote my husband, “we’re not moving that plant until you know exactly where it’s going to.”

Tape measure in hand, I’m exploring nooks and crannies all around the house. I’m not sure it would fit by our bathroom door; you’d feel like it was trying to jump you as you stepped out of the shower. Ditto on the stairway leading up to the attic; too tall.

Given time, and maybe a little more pruning, and Lurch will find a new home here (I’ve already been told he may not move to the uninsulated attic). Probably one of those holiday break to-dos that I’ll tackle.

Lurch, you have been warned. The rest of the world, brace yourselves.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Ellen says:

    Oh, dear, this sounds like Lurch would make a good addition to a nursing home or a preschool. Some place where he would be loved and appreciated for the tall plant he his. I’m sure your husband would agree.

    Have you considered putting him up on Freecycle.com?

    (Lurch, that is. Not your husband.)

  2. Those are good ideas, Ellen! My husband is pretty attached to Lurch, so he’d want to keep him around as long as possible – but Freecycle, or even the Twin Cities Free Market may be a better option, as you pointed out, if we do decide that Lurch has outgrown us. Thanks!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s