Ah, the cleaning up and putting the holidays to bed for another year. And that includes dealing with the poinsettia.  The little guy looked at me and asked me to make it quick this year but I just couldn’t do it.  I couldn’t put it outside in the snow to let hypothermia do it’s job.

It hasn’t been sentenced to the death penalty, but like it’s predecessors, the likelihood of long-term survival is slim under my care.  It’s not like I don’t care; I’ve read all about “Poinsettia Care: How to Keep Them Looking Great” and “Keeping Your Poinsettia’s Healthy”.  I give them the indirect light and feed them but it ends up being more like the last meal than a vitamin infusion. I watch the leaves curl and drop off one by one. Pretty soon you turn into a stalk with a little topknot  of leaves clinging to life, and then you are gone.

So little guy, know that I appreciated you and your holiday cheer, and I will tend you carefully, but the reality is that you are heading for the long walk down the green mile.  Still, there is the possibility of an act of clemency and commutation to a life of living behind the clock. We can only hope.