The Two-Year Guest: A Lesson in Reluctant Patience

So yesterday I posted in a local group on Facebook (terrifying!), and I actually got a few new Followers (whoo hoo!). I figured hey, we've got some new people, let's do the introvert introduction, and let's start with the most difficult story we've got. Buckle up, folks, this one is a doozy.

Today's view of the 'Spite-apple'. 🍍

If you've scrolled my socials, you've likely seen pics of this pineapple that's actually pineapple'ing (inside no less), as I'm particularly pleased with it and like to show ERRbody. What you haven't seen is why in the heck we have a pineapple. Inside. In Georgia. What happened was...once upon a time a few years back my son and his dad got into a particularly nasty row over some things my son said while he was at church camp over the summer. I drove down to Alabama, picked him up (along with everything he owned, which was littering the front porch - it literally LOOKED like litter - in garbage bags and incredibly haphazard). It was a long day that began a VERY long couple of years.

While he was living with us, my teenage son:

• Got ISS three or four times at school.

• Snuck out of our house and shot fireworks off in the bathroom of the public park across the street.

• Snuck out and had sex with a girl (or seven) from the neighborhood/surrounding neighborhoods.

• Invited a drug dealer over in the middle of the night while we were sleeping.

• Told me he was hearing voices and seeing people that weren't there.

• Threatened suicide.

Needless to say, it was a difficult time. We did everything we could think of to do - to include therapy, contacting the state for Narcan just in case, putting cameras up around the house, meeting with the school multiple times, doing weekly drug tests, etc.

Sometime during all that madness, a friend of mine living in Hawaii (military family) cut the top off of a pineapple and shared the story with me, since she knows I love plants. My son & I decided to give it a try. I figured it would be something he could look after - and that it would be something better to focus on than his previous inclinations.

After two full years, my ex husband finally invited my son back for a visit, and my son was excited to go. I'd facilitated communication in the interim, and despite the inherent nerves all around, we all needed a break. A plan was made. An early out was prepared in case it didn't go as well as hoped.

It went great! And the early out that was prepared was...frowned upon, let's say. Long story short, the kid (who is now an adult legally), is still in Alabama. Hasn't been back here. I've seen him maybe twice when I passed through his area, but it's been getting spottier and spottier. And I'm working on coming to terms with it.

And there's this pineapple. It's been slowly but surely growing since he left. There have been times I wanted to toss it, not just because of what it reminds me of, but because it's ginormous and unwieldy and really shouldn't have ever been a thing that grew in Zone 8A to begin with. But I didn't.

This winter, it fruited. I absolutely could not believe it. I started calling it the 'Spite'-apple. Because...what in the actual...yeah. That.

But here’s the thing about the Spite-apple: It’s not actually growing out of spite anymore. It’s growing because it found a Soft Landing. Because I cannot let things die. I just don't have it in me.

I realized while staring at this prickly, stubborn thing that my greenhouse is full of them. Every rare Philodendron or 'rehab' Alocasia I bring in is a little bit like that pineapple. They’ve been through 'haphazard' conditions. They’ve been pushed to the brink by neglect, or bad soil, or just the trauma of a long move.

At Curated Cuttings GA, I don’t just move inventory. I’m the person who takes the 'unwieldy' and the 'haphazard' and gives them a place to finally fruit.

Whether it’s my signature 'Not Dirt' mix that actually lets roots breathe, or just the patience to let a plant be 'difficult' for two years until it’s ready to show off—this is the heart of what I’m doing here in Flowery Branch. I’m building a space for the survivors.

So, if you’re new here, welcome. We deal in rare aroids, chunky soil, and the belief that e

ven the most 'doozy' of stories can end in something worth showing everybody.

The Spite-apple Watch is officially on. Who’s ready for a cocktail when this thing finally ripens? 🥂

In the meantime, there are Plants...