|It's like what tomatoes would look like in Mad Max. Tomatoes of the Apocalypse.|
Back to the houseplants. My intentions are always good. But something on either end of the plant care spectrum happens when I bring a new plant home. I either over-love it and water it too much or I totally abandon it and forget to water it after a week, leaving it to die a Saharan death. You know how before people get a pet they are supposed to get a plant, and if the plant lives then they know they can take care of a pet? It's pretty much the opposite for me. Well, not even the opposite. I have pets and they are living happy, healthy lives. So you'd think a plant would be able to live with me taking care of it. Yeah, no.
Last year my sister, Laura, gave me two jade plants. I had admired the behemoths she had growing in her living room and she was kind enough to root, pot. and bring me two of their offspring. Laura, by the way, has the gift of a very green thumb. I don't think plants have the nerve to die in her house. That's how good she is. "There is no way you can kill these things," she told me with the utmost confidence. Oh, really? Within six months all that was left of one of them were two sad, leafless stems standing forlornly in the dirt, like two abandoned fence posts in a ghost town. This is what is left of the second plant:
|There used to be a LOT more leaves.|
|How did my grandmother make growing these things look so easy?|
And that brings me to today, when I found myself at the grocery store eyeing a rosemary plant. Look out, this was the last one among all of the other potted herbs. I resignedly put it in my basket, trying to be positive and upturning my thoughts to, "YES! I can and will grow this plant to a huge rosemary bush...maybe even a...a...TOPIARY!" This is what it looks like now:
Perhaps my positive attitude at the store was a little overkill. Let's see if my latest conquest can make it to the end of August.