There are two purple orchids in the upstairs bathroom. I don't usually use that rest room but the other day I did and noticed that the flowers are thriving. I asked my son about it and he mentioned that he remembers to water the plants when he brushes his teeth. Not a ton, just a little bit each time. Hence, they are not dead.
Not so with the plant in the corner of the living room. It is out of the flow of traffic, and it is not part of anyone's routine to be nearby with extra water, as is the case with toothbrushes. The result is evidenced by brown leaves that droop rather like a wet handlebar mustache.
The notion occurs to me that it would not be difficult to to change things up. I could bring the living room plant into my own bathroom, and probably it would perk up nicely.
John and I do not have a regular routine of sharing tea in the morning, or taking walks. It would be good if we did, but we don't. It means that some conversations never catch up, and we certainly never get ahead. But we do have marriage group each week, and that is a guaranteed chunk of time when we will be in the same room, listening to the same people. We will even smile at each other. It is not eons of time, but it is a little bit, every week.
Because I don't want to wander across my marriage one day and realize it is as limp as a handlebar mustache.
