The Dolly Parton Wig Plants on My Front Porch
By Jessica Breazeale
I have two hanging baskets on my front porch, and I've started calling them my Dolly Parton wig plants. That's genuinely the only way I know how to describe them — big, full, bouncy, bursting with life. I don't even know what kind of plant they are. I think I picked them up at Buds and Blooms, and one of these days I need to actually ask somebody what I'm growing.
For now I just know they're gorgeous, and I know they need a lot more water than I ever expected.
Look at that. That is not a good look. That's a wet dog hanging its head after being caught in the rain — drooping, sad, completely wilted. Every strand of that "wig" just falls flat when these plants go too long without water. And I mean it, these things drink. I underestimated how thirsty they are.
But here's the part that gets me. You water them when they look like that wet dog, and by the next morning — I mean first thing the next morning — they are back. Full Dolly Parton wig, standing tall, like nothing ever happened. It is the fastest comeback I have ever seen from a plant, and every time it happens I can't help but think of Dolly herself.
There's a certain energy about these plants — a "get up and get moving" spirit, like they've got a famous 9 to 5 kind of attitude, just waiting on somebody to show up and give them what they need to get the party started again. They don't need a cup of coffee like the rest of us dragging into the kitchen in the morning. They just need water. But the principle is the same — something has to fill you back up before you can function.
So here's the bigger picture, because with me there's always a bigger picture.
Anything that matters to you requires work — consistent work, done when it's required, not just when you feel like it. Skip it, put it off, take too long of a break, and it will show. It always shows. These plants aren't shy about telling on me when I've neglected them, and honestly, most things in life work the exact same way. We just don't always droop as visibly as a hanging basket does.
So what does that look like in real life? For some of us, it might be a relationship with a family member or a friend that's gone dry because we haven't tended to it. It might be an apology we've been putting off. It might be something we need to let go of because we've been holding on past the point of doing any good. It might be parenting, showing up in the ways our kids need even when we're running on empty ourselves.
I know what it means for me. Every time I walk past those baskets and see them drooping, it's a reminder — water them, or the beauty fades. And I've got a few places in my own life right now where I know exactly what needs watering.
So I'll ask you the same thing I keep asking myself: what's drooping in your life right now, just waiting on you to show up with what it needs to come back to full bloom?
Comments