Maybe I should explain:
And, in those 10 years it has thrived and survived. It has survived multiple exposures, it has thrived in the same crusty 10-year old soil (I have this theory.... when I re-pot plants, they die, so I just don't do it.... ever), it has tolerated my inability to water it on a regular basis, and it has lived through four moves.
But, it seems this house of ours is the final nail in the coffin for this little guy (he's so small it actually only takes one nail). Turns out, our 900 sq. ft. house has proven to be too big for me to handle. The spider plant was banished to the back bedroom and ignored for the better part of the past year. And in this vaste wasteland of a house, I have managed to never, ever, ever go into the back room to water this little plant.
(A thinking person might suggest I move him to a more inhabited part of the house, but, to that, I would reply: "It's 900 sq. ft. if I add another plant to ANY of the other rooms, they'll feel like a flippin' greenhouse.")
So... when I last checked on him in early January, he was completely crusty and brown. Dead as a dead spider plant. And, in true 'me' fashion, I left the carcass there and shut the door. Avoidance, avoidance, avoidance.
That is, until yesterday. Yesterday, we cleaned this house top to bottom, and that included the banished back bedroom.... and, to my complete surprise, this little guy is actually, honestly, incredibly, still alive. He's so alive he's sprouting. Look:
Must be that spidey sense.