When I was nineteen, I found a tipped-over spider plant at my apartment complex. It stayed that way for days, the dirt spilling onto the pathway.

When I moved a couple of weeks later, I took the plant with me. I named him Herbie. He grew bigger and bigger, eventually requiring a huge pot. I moved about eight times, each with Herbie strapped in my front seat.

When we had our cattle dog, Jess, she sat in her comfy bed in the back and Herbie was in the front.

Herbie made in 18 years, until we moved to Vietnam and couldn’t bring him. The renters swore they’d keep him alive, but they didn’t.

I planted some heirloom seeds a couple of weeks ago and as we’re moving, I wanted to bring them with me.