This week we’re going indoors. Kind of. The garden is still waking up, but the houseplants have been quietly getting on with things all winter, and I’ve been meaning to introduce some of them for months. So here’s a mix of the indoor cast and the latest progress outside.

One — The Matriarch

This is where my Finnish gardening adventure started. One single pothos cutting from a friend of a friend in my first year in Finland — 2010, when I didn’t know anyone, didn’t speak the language, and definitely didn’t know just how prolific pothos could be if given half a chance. She lived as a single lonely vine for years. Years. Tough-skinned, scraggly, and potted in what looked more like vacuum cleaner dust than soil, if I’m being honest. My houseplant knowledge back then was… lacking. She survived out of pure stubbornness, in a location where light was a rumor and the radiator dried everything to a crisp.

Then, one day, I got up the courage to try propagating her. It sounded scary at first — hack up the whole thing into pieces, stick them in water and hope for the best. But I did it anyway because, honestly, what was there to lose? She basically looked like a green rope with 4 stunted leaves anyway. If I ended up with even one more plant, it’d be progress.

As it turned out, I got more than one plant. That was the beginning of the dynasty.

Two — The Spawn

Sixteen years later, the Matriarch has children in every room. The kitchen pothos (left) hangs above the dining table, just a few feet away from a south-facing window. There’s also this jar of cuttings (middle) nestled into a hanging planter at the other end of the dining table, rooting in water since December, ready to pot up. The computer room pothos (right) lives on top of the wardrobe and has colonized the light fixture. It’s remarkably bulletproof, thriving despite being in the room that gets blasted the most when we have the woodstove burning. What’s most fascinating is that they all have slightly different leaf densities and colors, depending on their soil and locations.

The dynasty has even emigrated: there are pothos descendants living in both fish tanks at my office, including one that’s taken over an entire wall above the loach tank. But those are the branch of the family that moved abroad.

One cutting. One friend. Sixteen years. An empire.

Three — My Son’s Moonstones

These are Pachyphytum oviferum — moonstones — and they belong to my son. The original plant shattered from neglect a couple years ago, and he came to me with the pieces in his hand, looking distraught. I told him that sometimes what looked like the end really was just a chance for another beginning. So we stuck them in a pot, and waited. Multiple clusters now thrive in that pot on the kitchen windowsill, watered every three weeks, completely unbothered by everything.

There’s a good lesson in there about broken not meaning dead, but I think he mostly just liked that they look like little alien eggs.

Four — The Revenge Brugmansia

This is a Brugmansia suaveolens ‘Alba’ — grown from seed, which is the slowest and most stubborn way to get one. The packet says white trumpets, so presumably that’s what I’ll get, if it ever decides to bloom. It’s putting out fresh growth as of January, so it’s alive and building toward its moment. It has never flowered. The anticipation is real.

I am especially invested in this plant because I grew beautiful, huge Brugmansias from seed back in Southern California. Then, I came home from university one day to find that my mother had chopped them all down. She’d read somewhere that they were poisonous and was afraid of getting sued if a neighbor’s cat or child ate them. She didn’t ask me first. She just killed them. I’m still bitter about this.

The Finnish one is, in some small way, a do-over. Every season it lives, so far away from its tropical origins, I can’t help feeling inordinately pleased. Keep growing, my beautiful-if-slightly-toxic friend. Nobody’s going to chop you down here and my pets (and child) have far more sense than to see you as salad.

Five — The Christmas Cactus That Broke

My sister-in-law had a red Christmas cactus in bloom over the holidays, and since I only have white and pink varieties, I was thrilled when she offered me a cutting. Then I broke it in half while potting it up in January, because of course I did.

The top piece is thriving. The bottom piece is… not so much. Yeah, it pretty much shriveled up and died. Still, it looks like this one is doing fine so with any luck I’ll have a nice sized plant in a few years. We’ll see.

Six — Broad Beans In

Back outside: two more beds planted on Wednesday, this time with broad beans. Three varieties — Bison, Eleanor, and Super Aquadulce — all ordered from Irish seed suppliers, because post-Brexit they’re still in the EU and you can actually get seeds shipped here without customs drama. I genuinely cannot tell you the difference between these three varieties because this is only my second year growing broad beans, but they were tasty and hardy and filled several bags last time, so I’d like to expand on that. If I save seeds this year, they’ll probably become a mix, much like the peas. That seems to be my approach to gardening: start with intention, end with a genetic free-for-all.

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Week three. Peas in the ground, broad beans following, and the indoor crew is finally getting their moment. Hopefully, next week will bring more spring-appropriate things to share.

Thanks for visiting — see what the other SoSers are up to over at Jim’s page!