Remember how I posted recently about my plant-killing abilities?
Well, a couple of days ago, I bought two big ol' bags of potting soil, two shade-tolerant and hardy-looking houseplants, and three itty-bitty pots of flowering plants for a hanging basket. And some plant food (which I may have already lost). And I potted the new plants and repotted the two plants that I already had, as sort of a prize for having survived years of my neglect. And I brought them inside, and set them about the house. Three floor plants and one hanging one in the front room, and one brand-new plant in the bedroom, where I'd been maintaining a pot of dried-out dirt (where a plant had once lived) for so many years that I no longer noticed it.
And I swear to god, the apartment feels different. I only added two plants, and replaced another that was looking scraggly. But it just feels like a warmer, happier place somehow. Good energy in the room. Plus, I had the added bonus of falling asleep to the scent of fresh soil and cedar shavings emanating from the newly potted plant a couple of feet from my bed.
Conclusion: living plants -- as opposed to scraggly, dying ones and pots full of dirt and dead roots -- make things better.