Dispite years of stunted growth in my closet-like Soho studio, my houseplants made the most of their first Brooklyn summer and doubled in size. Unfortunately, this meant they all needed bigger pots, and at my cute little neighborhood hardware store, those went for the not-so-cute price of $10/each.
After rooting through every cabinet and closet in my house, I plopped down at the kitchen table and stared forlornly at my only prospect: a boat shaped plastic dessert dish. Then my eyes settled on a set of bongos in Jean’s studio. The head of the smaller drum was torn. It had been for years, and – like the shorted out pedal, stringless guitar, and cracked guiro – lived under the desk, where musical instruments went to die a slow and dusty death.
In their heyday, the bongos looked something like this:
In my container-seeking frenzy, I saw just what I was looking for. So I got the stamp of approval from Jean, and began the bongo makeover.
First, I removed all the hardware, and both drum heads. I unscrewed and discarded the piece of wood that held them together. Then I went downstairs to the dollar store and bought plastic containers that would fit snugly inside of each drum. I cut a drainage hole in the bottom of each container and reinforced them with electrical tape.
Finally, I transferred the plants and added fresh dirt.
And voila! Beautiful and personally relevant plant pots. I have practically been getting welts from patting myself on the back all day.
So, recycle. It feels good, and saves [plant] lives.