“Happiness, not in another place but this place ... not for another hour, but this hour.” —Walt Whitman ... Looking at Epipremnum aureum always makes me happy. Every room of the house would benefit from a Golden Pothos.
Mine started in 1987. Set the scene with a snowstorm dumping heavy, wet snow across the valley, nearly 2 feet. Add to this one boyfriend whose shoulder injury kept him from shoveling ANYTHING, yet he still had to go to work. Mix in an optimistic young lady who took up the shovel and cleared his entire driveway by herself as a surprise. The next day, a jaw dropping Pothos in an enormous pot, already grabbing its climbing stick, was delivered to her apartment as a thank you for extraordinary shoveling.
Within two years I was “Mrs.“ Shoulder Injury and the Pothos came to live in our new home. Many cuttings were taken for extra pots and often shared with friends. I still have the original pot and tag!
There are a total of six Pothos pots in my collection, all offspring from the original, sprinkled through the house, spreading cheer and beauty. Pieces of the original rootball are included here somewhere though I have forgotten exactly which pot! The pair in slide one began 18 months ago as fresh cuttings, extra long ones, two big fistful‘s of them, taken all at once, crowded like sardines into two tall glass jars to build roots, potted en masse for an instant effect, paired in purple catch pots. Both drape down over the edge of the Oriental cabinet in the bedroom, easy care, forgiving, long history, lots of gratification.