My Wife's Plants

My wife has a lot of plants

So I built her something that remembers all of them — what each one is, when it was last watered, how much it wants, and when to feed it. Then it does the remembering, instead of her.

Free. No account, no ads, nothing to sign up for.

She can name every plant in this house. I could not have told you when a single one of them was last watered — only that it was either far too long ago, or twice, yesterday, by both of us.

So one weekend I started writing this. It took considerably more than a weekend. It now knows 120 houseplants by heart, which means it still works on a plane, in a basement, and on the evening the wifi gives up.

She uses it every day. That's the whole review.

What it actually does

It remembers
One reminder per plant, on the day it's due, telling you how much to pour. Watered and Snooze work straight from the notification, without opening anything.
It already knows the plant
120 houseplants, with care and feeding guides written by hand rather than scraped. All of it lives on the phone.
It knows when to stop
Fertilizer reminders go quiet over winter, and while a plant is dormant. Feeding a sleeping plant is the mistake that quietly kills it.
It can look at a photo
Point the camera at a plant and the whole profile fills itself in — what it is, how much water and light it wants, and whether it's safe around the cat.

What costs money

Everything that works without the internet is free, and will stay that way: your plants, the reminders, the schedules, the 120 guides, backups. The first three photo identifications are free too.

After that, the camera and the questions run through Google's AI, and that costs me money every time someone uses it. So those need a subscription — monthly or yearly, cancel whenever you like. That's the entire business model. The full terms, if you want them.

Where your plants live

On your phone. There's no account to make, no password, and no server of mine holding your photos — including if you subscribe. I didn't want to be responsible for any of that, and you shouldn't have to trust me with it. The privacy policy spells out the few things that do leave the device, and when.

Built with love, by a husband, for his wife.

It also speaks a little plant-sign English — “Happy plant, happy house, happy wife. Science.” — because that's a running joke in our kitchen. There's a switch to turn it off. She's never used it.

Questions, or something broken?