Here's a little quirky tidbit about my life: I have a plant named Kate. She sits with me at my desk everyday while I work.
Kate was given to me at my grandmother's funeral near the end of 2009, although, her name was yet to be given. At that time she was just a plain ole funeral plant. An "English Garden" to be exact. I brought her to work with me because, honestly, I don't really keep plants at home. (They tend to die). And I surely didn't want that basket at my house. I didn't know what to do with this plant, but it was a nice plant given by my father, and so I brought her to work.
An English Garden was all she was at the time. A small budding purple African Violet, a little sprig of a vine, and a spiky tropical looking thing in the back. The greenery added some life to my dreary cube, and it felt homey...as homey as a cubicle can be.
I don't drink much water at all (a fault that I'm constantly vowing to change), but I DO drink coffee at work. Crappy, murky coffee with 1 packet of Splenda. I pour a cup or two each morning, but rarely do I finish drinking the entire thing. It started out of laziness, really. Not wanting to place an open cup coffee in my trash can, I began pouring the leftover cold coffee into my English Garden. I figured it could use the moisture. I mean, coffee is mostly water anyway. At first I chuckled to myself as I poured the crappy coffee into the soil. It seemed so silly! But then she began sprouting new growth, and I realized that, yes, I was actually keeping a plant alive! (It happens very rarely.)
Because I don't sit directly beside a window, I would leave my plant at a co-worker's desk so my plant could bask in the sun over the weekend. He began referring to my plant as "Kate," as in Kate Gosselin...because of the spiky hair. It just stuck. So there she is, my plant named Kate. Still growing and thriving on coffee alone after 16 months.