Many years ago, when the Younger B.E. was an adolescent, she persistently wanted a pair of Uggs boots. At the time, I had no idea what Uggs boots were, but as the squeaky door gets the oil, we traveled to the Big City to find a store that sold them. On the way, I learned that they were made of sheepskin by an Australian company, and that they have been popular Down Under since the 1920s.
When we arrived at the store, the joy expressed on the B.E.’s face alerted me that unless the store did not have them in stock, we would not be leaving without a pair. When the clerk informed us that the price would be $200 plus tax, more than I used to pay for a three-piece suit (a long time ago), I gasped, while handing her my credit card. She wrapped the boots in a flashy bag, the cost of which I presumed was part of the overall experience. The B.E. was ecstatic.
As we neared the store’s door, I noticed an unusual plant, which I stopped to observe more closely. It had multiple fronds filled with large, green waxy leaves. On a sudden impulse, I asked to speak with the manager, who came and greeted me effusively, as if to ward off what she feared might be a forthcoming complaint.
I told her that I admired the plant and asked if I might have a frond, politely telling her that I had spent $200 on her merchandise. Relieved that I was not complaining, she said, “Of course” and went to get scissors.
I severed a large frond, thanked her and we departed. Once home, I placed the frond in a tall vase with water, in the hopes of seeing aspirant roots emerge. For months, nothing happened, but the vase was not in the way, and I kept replenishing the water.
I researched the plant and found that the botanical name is zamioculcas zamiifolia, but it is better known, for obvious reasons, by the soubriquet, “ZZ plant.” Upon further research, I learned that the plant is native to East Africa, and is especially desirable as, unlike other house plants, it requires low maintenance.
After about a month in the vase, I noticed that the frond had sprouted a few roots. I let them mature, then I planted it in a large pot, and it began to flourish, soon sprouting new fronds of its own, which grew slowly, but with a sense of determination that the plant had found its permanent home. I keep it in the sun, next to where am writing this item, and the two of us have developed a fine level of camaraderie. We have become symbiotic twins.
After establishing itself in the original decorative pot, fortunately not one of my Good Wife’s favorites, in a few years it began blooming, beautiful white flowers on short stems. Another few years, and it clearly was bursting out of the pot. I decided to repot it in a larger vessel, but I could not get it out of the original one which had an inward-curved upper rim, but the plant meant more to me that the pot, and I was forced to smash it to liberate the beloved ZZ.
Once ensconced in its new home, it took off again. Its sense of gratitude was palpable. Given the happiness that the plant has brought me, I have slipped fronds to give to others, who have rooted them successfully, significantly enhancing the Northern Neck population of ZZ plants.
Given its origin, we have named it “The Uggs Plant.” I no longer think of the $200 pair of boots, which, after tiring of them, the B.E. has passed on to my Good Wife, who fortuitously wears the same size shoe. The plant is healthy and happy, and having it, so am I.
