A Dying Money Tree, An Apt Metaphor

Father's plants as a whole are doing, uh, OK.  I think three of them have drying leaves, but the rest are fine.  Well, except this tall one called a money tree.  I know it's a money tree because, thankfully, there is that paper descriptor that is planted in the pot and it says, "Money tree."

I didn't notice those descriptors until, oh, about a month ago.  In the back, thank Buddha, there are watering instructions.  That kind of helps when you're looking at a money tree that is helplessly wilting in front of your eyes.  It says to water every other day.  How much, who knows.  But I now know that I am supposed to water every other day.  Will it help?  Who can say?  But if it doesn't work, I can at least tell Father I followed the instructions.

(Aside: Father believes in luck.  Money trees are supposed to bring you luck.  That this money tree is dying and teetering to one side like the Leaning Tower of Pisa is serving as a metaphor that I am not lucky.  And right now, I'm not.)

Thank God, then, for a moisture meter.  I was Googling about how to water a money tree (even after I saw the instructions) when I saw that there was such a contraption.  A machine that can tell you how much water is in a pot?  Cool!  Now, what I would do with that information is something I don't quite know, but too often I have wondered if I am underwatering or overwatering, and this moisture meter will provide a big chunk of information toward answering that.

Now, to actually use it.  I got it late last week and haven't taken it out of its package yet.  Then, once I learn how to use it, I have to learn how to use the information I glean from the meter.  And then, maybe then, I'll know how much and how often to water these things so they don't bleepin' die on me.