I have a talent for rescuing near-dead foliage. A few weeks ago my father was outraged that someone, probably local kids, broke off three branches from the coleus outside his home. I took the little wilted branches home, put them in water and watched as they formed roots and leaves. Yesterday I presented them to him as a potted plant, turning anger to abundance. And this is the second time in as many years that I have given coleus to his garden.
The plants at work thrive in almost constant fluorescent light. I recently found a cutting dying in a wineglass. Here it is, living in a cheerful pot on a sunny windowsill. After a long day, it gives me a sense of peace to water the houseplants and marvel at their growth.