Walking through the grocery market on a Friday afternoon in a February of some past year, I happened upon a little green plant, set atop a short tower of soda cases, it’s container fashionably wrapped in pink tinfoil, looking dutifully dressed for the valentine occasion. I wanted to pass over it. I stopped. Did it seem lonely? I felt that it was staring at me, with big puppy dog eyes. Won’t you take me home? I will grow and bloom and make your home smell SO sweet. Please, partake of me? It was a geranium, and appearing healthy and lush, and also completely out of season and sitting in grocery. Though I had always loved my mother earth and all her leafy children, I had never actually owned a plant, because I had spent all my adult life living in apartment complexes and being completely broke. I hovered, I bit…