I am a professional plant killer. Shocking news, I know. If you have a green plant that you no longer want, just ask me to watch it and I guarantee it will die. Don’t get me wrong, I love plants, flowers, most things green. I just can’t grow them or keep them alive for any amount of time on purpose.
The few green plants in my house, there are four, have all survived because they have a strong will to live and are determined not to let me kill them. I admire each of them. One even graced me with beautiful little pink flowers this year which I found even more amazing. Most of the plants around it in the same little basket have died off one by one, but there it is surviving and now seemingly thriving.
I blame it on the whole genetic pool thing and how once again, just like in cooking and baking, it apparently skipped a generation. My parents were both avid gardeners who raised copious amounts of vegetables each year in which I had to help plant and harvest and can or freeze. I hated every minute of it. All of my children are good gardeners and plant growers. My son Josh even got a blue ribbon in 4-H one year for his little garden. Show off.
One year for Mother’s Day my four children all gave me plants and flowers for outside. They (knowing better) even came and planted, organized and beautified my “flower garden” as I jokingly refer to it. It looked great for a few weeks.
As early as I can remember I used to get little potted philodendron plants for in my bedroom and after a month or so would be tossing out yet another dead plant. My paternal grandmother once gave me a small cactus plant telling me “no one can kill a cactus”. I did.
Each Spring I have gone to local nurseries or grocers and purchased pretty little flowers to plant outside. I’ve tried directly in the soil, I’ve tried in little pots. One year I even left some in the pots I bought them in, just to be safe. Most had the same results, dead or dying among the weeds. The weeds however, thrive in my “flower garden”.
When planting flowers I always start out all enthused but after the third or forth plant I’ve had enough of the dirt and the whole planting thing and usually throw the rest together in one big pot and call it good, or stick it in whatever looks like a pot and is near-by. It always ends up looking like there was no plan to it at all, and that’s usually a correct assumption.
As much as I admire and enjoy pretty plants and flowers I hate the whole digging in the dirt planting things. I also don’t like taking care of them. Weeding is exhausting and they will. not. stop. Making sure plants are not too hot or too cold or watered, ugh. Just thinking about all of it wears me out. I get no enjoyment out of working in the dirt or caring for plants. None.
Dear friends of mine post beautiful photos on social media of their plants and flower gardens that could be on the cover of magazines. I admire and envy each and every one of them. They have large blooming flowers and neatly potted plants. Not mine. Mine looks more like a war zone and I lost. There is grass and weeds growing rampant throughout, with a few pulled dead bodies laying scattered here and there. The flower pots are in no kind of order and then there’s that one that has three or four just stuffed into it because I was sick of the whole thing. If plant disasters was a thing, I’d be the queen of it.
There are bits and pieces of pottery and clay pots laying about because I always have grand projects in mind where I will take those bits and re-purpose them into something magnificent for my flower garden. My friends all post lovely photos of beautiful art pieces that also adorn their well kept flower gardens. I did turn a broken clay pot over and called it a toad house. I call that progress.
My roses, bushes and other things seem to be at least a month behind everyone else, only the weeds are thriving. I don’t know if it’s because I live two miles north of most of my friends or if the windy country air is doing odd things, but according to their photos I should have roses and other things blooming already. I think mine are afraid. (Note: the roses are finally blooming and bursting at the seams! Jay also is the one who takes care of them by the way).
Maybe it’s because I don’t put a lot of love and care into my plants and so called “flower garden”. It’s like my cooking, if I can’t nuke it, it’s just too much work. There doesn’t seem to be a shortcut to flowers and plants that I have found so far. You have to actually get out there and pull weeds and water stuff. It’s really annoying.
Latest progress report is that last weekend Jay finally got tired of all the tall grass and weeds and got out the weed whacker and mowed them all down. I racked out all of the debris, then I took multiple big pots of boiling water with added vinegar and dumped it on each of the weeds, effectively killing them without any harsh chemicals as I don’t want to harm my birds who eat in that same area. It actually worked! It may take me another week or two to finish in this 90 degree heat, but its a start.
I suppose I should feel a little bad about the poor plants that come under my care. In the case of my houseplants, they were all given to me, so that’s on someone else’s conscious. They have survived my total lack of a green thumb or any other planting abilities for over five years now. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, those four plants are proof of that. Good job little plants, good job!
Until next time…
Stay home, stay safe, wear a mask when out.
Toni