This poor brave Anthurium has been living in a 4" pot (see Now-Stuff-Holder to its left) on the kitchen table  four or six years trying desperately to move its spindly sprawl towards the window while managing extended drought and flooding cycles.

I brought it out Sunday and repotted it with good dirt in an 8" pot, then left it on my favorite old red table to watch me clean and summer the deck.

Last night, we sat companionable together for a couple hours and listened to a book.  We enjoyed the sparkle of the solar lights set every third gap around the deck, and the new clean, and the hummingbird mobile changing colors in no discernable pattern.  We talked a bit, and I apologized for life having been so unnecessarily difficult, and promised we would be better together. 

And I might have mentioned how much respect it deserved for setting that one small bloom in the midst of trying to simply survive.

This morning, the sprawl is notably more upward, and happiness at the cool of a night, and the early morning warmth of the sun, and being a part of, is radiating off of her.

Sometimes, when you hurt something alive and good, you have the opportunity to fix it.
L,L