It is no secret in my family that I am notorious for my black thumbs. I can't make WEEDS grow, and that's a fact! Of course they would spring up here and there unassisted, but if I were to try and nourish weeds or help them along in any way they would surely wither away and die. I'm like my own weed killer then I guess. ....so sad.
Sad, but true that I have spent a small fortune on house plants and gardens which all end the exact same way. In a watery grave. Watery cause my neglect and negligence to them inevitably leads to my flooding them in a last desperate attempt to bring them back to life. Which of course, never works.
It's not that I don't know how to properly care for them but......well....it IS that I don't know how to properly care for them. But you can hardly blame me, coming from a long line of forest green thumbs! I mean, after about the 6th generation, isn't this kind of stuff supposed to come to me like intuition? In my blood? Second nature? Apparently not.
I finally decided on this last trip to Home Depot that I would swallow my pride and ask for some assistance in choosing my newest house plants and directions on how to care for them. Course as I'm wandering the isles of the small jungle that is the garden section of Home Depot, I swear I can actually hear the plants and seeds whispering amongst themselves..."Oh my gosh! It's HER again! Quick everyone! Go limp and turn brown! Maybe She'll just leave us alone!"
*Sigh* If only they would give me a second chance! ....or a third....or fifth....whose counting really?
I felt them slightly perk up the more I listened to the lady go on and on about proper plant care. Half of them actually turned green again as I tried hard to pay attention. In short I walked out with two palm tree type looking plants that apparently take very little care. Small sunshine and water every few weeks or so. We'll see how it goes. Even I can't botch this up too badly.
The Begonias gave a small salute to these brave souls in my cart who were (for all they could tell) attempting a suicide mission. I still felt a silent glare from the ferns when I pass by their section. Apparently they are a close nit family and did not take kindly to the passing of their latest relative who spent a small time on my kitchen cabinet. I tried to lie and whisper it was a quick and painless death, but it wasn't. It was slow and agonizing. He might have stood a chance if my 2 year old didn't find so much pleasure in plucking his little tiny leaves from his fragile stems. ....They'll never forgive me for that.
