My poinsettia died. My mother had the poinsettia, then gifted her (the poinsettia) to me. I repotted her and she immediately became this crazy, quirky bonsai version of a poinsettia with tiny delicate leaves and gnarled branches. She was beautiful and gentle, and seemed strong and quite unique. My mother didn’t recognise her when she … Continue reading Paying homage to a dead poinsettia