It was love at first sight.
I first noticed the trend it in the realm of Pinterest, and then suddenly my attention was alerted and I noticed it was everywhere. Fiddle leaf fig trees in baskets, fiddle leaf fig trees in pots, fiddle leaf fig trees on little scooter cart things – the funky houseplant had become a phenomenon. Now, I know that this little tree has exploded across the design world – how could it not? With its big, waxy leaves that flop around to its skinny little trunk and unique silhouette, its mere aesthetic and persona seize your attention in the same way that your friend’s California-vacation-palm-tree-pictures do when you scroll through your Instagram feed. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am a plant lover. Lucky for me, my husband is okay with my plant obsession, even when it means finding thirty-two plants distributed carefully throughout our century old house. Although he didn’t really get my love for the fiddle leaf fig, he said that when the time was right I could get one – but it would be my job to keep it alive. His philosophy is probably similar to your mother’s philosophy of childhood pets: if you feed it, you water it, and you take it outside when it needs to go outside, then you can have it. As much as I love and care for all my other plants, when I first saw that fiddle leaf fig, I knew it was my dream plant. I researched, I saved spare change, I charted the sun patterns in our house to decide its ideal resting place, and I got a little rolling plant cart thing for it at Menards. Finally, after months and months and months of waiting, our local greenhouse called me and told me their truck had just come and my fig tree had arrived. I freaked out a little (okay, a lot), dropped everything, and drove to the greenhouse. Apparently I had really hustled over there, because the fig trees were still in the unloading zone wrapped in the brown paper they travel in and chilling out on their wooden pallets. The greenhouse workers all gathered around, gave me advice, told me how to care for it, and after inspecting the selection of figs, I picked a nice and healthy one to be mine. After paying, I lugged my new baby out the door and managed to fit it in the front seat of the Subaru. When I got home, I was so excited that I just wanted to take a million pictures of it and post all of them on the social media like a new mom showing the world her newborn baby. I refrained. Now it’s been a few days, and I actually had to take an unexpected trip to Florida. My husband is super awesome and said he’d plant-sit. He also offered to take pictures of my cute fiddle leaf every day that I’m gone. I could be wrong, but I think he’s starting to understand the whole fig-loving craze. And who knows. Maybe when I get home I’ll discover that he sang it lullabies at night in my absence. xoxo, Megan
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