I was in email contact with my Mum today, and she mentioned that my brother and his fiancée had bought themselves a Dracaena and called it Big Steve. On asking Little Bro about this, he said they also had an ivy called Ivor. It got me thinking about the names I've given my plants.
The very first plant I had was a polka dot plant called Kevin. And then another polka dot plant called Kevin II. By the time I was onto Kevin III I gave up trying to keep any plants alive in my student digs, and didn't knowingly share my accommodation with another living thing until just over a year ago when I bought the first of my plants.
Not all my plants have names, and there isn't really a pattern to it - it's not the most expensive, most impressive or most sought-after. Some have names, some don't. The first plant to be given a name was the Wollemia nobilis. Soon after I bought it, I went out for drinks and dinner with one of my best friends. A bottle of pinot grigio blush later, and she was adamant that my plant needed to have a name. She wanted to give it a suitably Antipodean name and suggested Matilda. I said I didn't think my tree was a she. And so Matildus was christened.
I reckon the next one to be named was Bastard the Cycas revoluta. So called because up until Saturday it was the most evil plant I owned (you've read all about it). And hot on his heels was Sideshow Bob. Sideshow Bob is a Boston fern (Nephrolepis exaltata), and the similarities are uncanny:
Sideshow Bob the fern is the middle of the three plants you can see in the shot above (he's now at least double the width!!). And here's his namesake:
Rather irreverently, the moment I opened up the box with the Araucaria araucana, I squealed "It looks like it's been crucified!". So it became known as Jesus:
You've all been following Karma Camellia's progress over the past few weeks, and I've perhaps erroneously assumed that the reference is globally recognised. It's after a song by Culture Club called "Karma Chameleon", which I apparently used to dance to when I was a little girl:
And finally there's José Cuervo. I wanted to call the Agave tequilana José. Hubster wanted to call it Cuervo. Fortunately the names belong to the same person so it was easy.
So I'm interested to know - do any of you name your plants? And if so, do you name all of them or just selected ones?
The very first plant I had was a polka dot plant called Kevin. And then another polka dot plant called Kevin II. By the time I was onto Kevin III I gave up trying to keep any plants alive in my student digs, and didn't knowingly share my accommodation with another living thing until just over a year ago when I bought the first of my plants.
Not all my plants have names, and there isn't really a pattern to it - it's not the most expensive, most impressive or most sought-after. Some have names, some don't. The first plant to be given a name was the Wollemia nobilis. Soon after I bought it, I went out for drinks and dinner with one of my best friends. A bottle of pinot grigio blush later, and she was adamant that my plant needed to have a name. She wanted to give it a suitably Antipodean name and suggested Matilda. I said I didn't think my tree was a she. And so Matildus was christened.
I reckon the next one to be named was Bastard the Cycas revoluta. So called because up until Saturday it was the most evil plant I owned (you've read all about it). And hot on his heels was Sideshow Bob. Sideshow Bob is a Boston fern (Nephrolepis exaltata), and the similarities are uncanny:
Sideshow Bob the fern is the middle of the three plants you can see in the shot above (he's now at least double the width!!). And here's his namesake:
Rather irreverently, the moment I opened up the box with the Araucaria araucana, I squealed "It looks like it's been crucified!". So it became known as Jesus:
You've all been following Karma Camellia's progress over the past few weeks, and I've perhaps erroneously assumed that the reference is globally recognised. It's after a song by Culture Club called "Karma Chameleon", which I apparently used to dance to when I was a little girl:
And finally there's José Cuervo. I wanted to call the Agave tequilana José. Hubster wanted to call it Cuervo. Fortunately the names belong to the same person so it was easy.
So I'm interested to know - do any of you name your plants? And if so, do you name all of them or just selected ones?
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