My venus fly trap
Originally uploaded by ericandkatherine
You'd think at my age, I would have learned my lesson by now.
Whenever I end up caring about a houseplant, it always ends up disappointing me. In fact, I can't think of a single houseplant I've ever had that didn't end up crushing my dreams about houseplants. The ferns end up dead. The African violets end up wilting away. They start off looking lush and green, but then, reality sets in...again.
But I never seem to learn my lesson. You think I'd learn after all this time that I should stop getting emotionally attached to houseplants--because I know it will always, always end up in the same place.
So I've decided to go in a different direction.
Thus, Herbert.
Herbert is a Venus Fly Trap. For some reason I can't really explain, I've always been fascinated by these plants, but never knew how someone could raise them. They eat meat, right, so...do they have babies? Do they lay eggs? Magically split into multiple fly traps?
I had no clue.
Ends up they aren't that much different than other houseplants--except they are totally different.
I found a place online, called Carolina Carnivores, which sold me a Venus Fly Trap for $7. That didn't seem like much of a risk, so I ordered it. A week later Herbert arrived.
I don't normally name houseplants, but figured if something was going to live in my house and eat meat--it should have a name. Herbert is as good as any name, I figure. He doesn't seem to mind.
Now, there are some particular things about raising a Venus Fly Trap.
Herbert, it could be said, is a sojourner. While he can lay down roots--he can't do it in DC soil--it is too acidic. So, Herbert lies in a cushy pot of peat moss. Herbert also can't deal with local water (it contains chlorine), so Herbert can only get moisture from rain water or (as is often our choice) bottled spring water.
Even though I was fascinated by Herbert at first, I was also, equally, a bit repulsed. I didn't want to touch him. When he started to grow and needed a bigger pot, I didn't want to touch his roots, either. I know what happens to the leftovers when I eat meat, so I figured the same would be true for Herbert. God knows what is mixed into those roots.
So Venus Fly trap. Check. Peat moss. Check. Bottled water. Check.
Um, what about the flies?
Herbert had been living on my porch for about two weeks and I hadn't noticed any of his traps closing (a sign that he has caught a meal). I figured that he had to be starving and that I should help him out a bit.
It just so happened that a big, juicy spring fly had made its way from the front porch into the house earlier that day--so I went about trying to catch him for Herbert. Here is the rub: I'd have to catch it alive. For some reason, raw meat and dead bugs are unhealthy for a Venus Fly Trap. It has to be fresh--as in alive.
So I went about chasing the fly around our house trying to swat it--but only swat it lightly enough to stun it. This is more difficult than it may sound, as I was constantly missing the fly because I was second guessing how much force to use.
The next morning, I managed to take down the fly--I think I broke a few of his kneecaps with my pansy-like swat. Then I quickly scooped him up and carried him outside to Herbert. As soon as that squirming fly hit Herbert's leaf, his trap snapped shut like like a mouse trap. It was an amazing sight.
So Herbert digested the fly for a few days and then slowly opened his leaves again, letting the leftover fly parts flit away like pieces of ash in the breeze.
Herbert never showed any gratitude. Never really did much of anything--since he is a houseplant.
But, he survived.
Since then, Herbert routinely catches flies and mosquitoes on his own (don't know if he has a preference). And every time is as fascinating to watch as the first.
And Herbert is doing great. He just recently sprouted a flower for a little spring pollinating. (Does that mean he is a girl?)
I'd like to say that Herbert had renewed my faith in houseplants. But the truth is, houseplants are houseplants. Herbert is Herbert.
