Last year's poinsettia refused to die. It's a pitiful thing with some tiny reddish leaves and a promising bud or two.
The black florist pot it was never transplanted from needed something to hold it.
I found a big gold cache pot that was too deep. I tried a piece of fossil Limestone.
The limestone rock was too big. A handful of river stones supported the pot just fine.
Once I set it in a big gold pot and surrounded it with Schlumbergeras and a Pelargonium or two, it looks so much happier and festive.
That's about as festive as it's going to be. In the spring I will take this determined plant out of the pot it was in for more than a year, examine the roots and replant it. It deserves a chance to bloom once more.
Thanks to Peter Herpst, my pitiful poinsettia now has a theme song: Percy the Puny Poinsettia.