Our Rural Roots

Katie Pratt , Progressive Farmer Contributor

The week of the first forecast hard frost I start the big move, bringing a few dozen houseplants into our garage from the front porch and back deck. I spend a few days repotting, washing pots and trimming summer overgrowth.

Finally, the real work begins -- finding a home for each plant somewhere in the house.

The window seats in the living room lose their cushions and become home to a dozen pots. Windowsills in south facing rooms hold several more. The potted trees crowd into corners. Home decor is stored, so plants can have their space on shelves and side tables.

My plant collection has grown a lot in the last few years. This winter I've added humidifiers and grow lights in a new attempt to propagate and keep several ferns alive.

Each plant has a story. My collection of aloe vera started with a clearance buy at Walmart. The Christmas cactus, which has never bloomed on my watch, belonged to my great grandmother. The asparagus fern was an experiment to see if I could keep it alive all winter. I did, and now I have several.

The family has made more than one comment about greenhouse living. My daughter has even wondered if I'm merely replacing kids with plants. I am, after all, entering a new life phase with an "empty nest" and a different schedule.

But isn't caretaking what farmers do? Growing up, I cared for orphaned calves and pigs. I witnessed my mom, the teacher, and my grandmother, the nurse, in constant care mode. I have always treasured time in the garden. Caring for these plants seems a natural progression of all those lessons in compassion.

After all, what better way to spend the wintry months than in a jungle of living things trying to keep the green thumb busy until spring.

**

Katie Pratt writes and shares her love of agriculture, family and plants from a north-central Illinois farm. Visit https://theillinoisfarmgirl.com/… to follow her writing blog.

(c) Copyright 2026 DTN, LLC. All rights reserved.