Slow Pivot: Big Changes Coming to Curated Cuttings

The last few weeks … months … have been busy for me, and it hasn't always been in a good way. Once upon a time, if something needed doing, I was your girl. I'd fix it. I'd work myself to death trying to make it right. I'd jump through ten thousand hoops to make sure that everyone and everything in my life was taken care of.

Those days are gone.

I walked into the spare room greenhouse this morning and it looked like I was walking into a war zone. Because amidst the chaos of the last few weeks, something has fallen through the cracks. I've known I needed to do something with my plants. KNOWN IT. But I haven't had the time or the inclination to actually DO it, even though I knew there'd be not so great consequences to the lack of action.

Didn't care. Still don't.

When Overextension Hits the Greenhouse

In moving all the camping equipment, bedding, cooking utensils, yada yada yada from one camper to the other, then going on a really nice beach trip, then coming home, unpacking, washing, drying, repacking, lawn mowing, vacuuming … I threw my back out. I was down for an entire week. Not a lot of plant watering happening when you can't even effectively wipe your ass.

And then, travel and life required a level of emotional output I found I couldn't quite fulfill. I didn't continue to show up after my tank was empty. And I didn't bother to poke my head into the greenhouse.

I sorta/kinda quit caring about the plants, all the while in the back of my mind knowing darned good and well that in a month or two, when the weather fully shifts to fall, I'm going to be very dependent on those plants for a little bit of the tropical life in what will otherwise be a shades of brown world in NE GA.

So today, when I FINALLY took myself into the spare room greenhouse, I found quite the scene. A decent amount of brown, a good deal of wilt, and—I shit you not—a Bette Waterbury that apparently decided jumping out the pot was preferable to staying another minute on a dry, forgotten shelf.

The Purge & The Pivot

I made a decision—after laughing myself silly about the concept of plant suicide—I'm only keeping what makes me happy. The rest of it is out. Today. Period.

I'm not going to feel bad about it either, despite it being money lost, time lost, and a lot of spent energy.

It's not because I don't care about plants anymore—I for sure still love plants. And it's not because I don't want to sell plants anymore; I still really do want to do that. But, I have realized I only want to sell plants that I don't mind keeping around all the time, and if that means I grow something for a couple of years before someone sees it and needs it in their life, that's okay with me.

So today, I give you what happens when you overextend. In the coming weeks, look for some changes on the site, in the socials, and possibly in the whole vibe of Curated Cuttings. Because we're still here, we're still shipping, and we still have plants. There just aren't as many of them.

Only the Strong Survive

One thing that should be of interest to you, though, if you are in the market—you for sure know, after reading all this, the plants that stayed and survived? Those babies are survivors. I mean, weeks of no water and no humidity survivors. Dropped a leaf and grew three more anyway survivors. Because in this life, only the strong survive.

Read the Unfiltered Version on Substack

This is the shop-update version. The real one—the one I actually wrote before I trimmed it down to "business as usual"—lives on my Substack, Dirty Words. As the name implies, things get a little dirtier over there.