I killed a plant. In fact, I kill all plants that come through my home. I so want to be that girl with the green -thumb where plants just thrive in my environment. Instead, I'm the evil witch who, without trying to, kills all plants.
And I feel bad. But I keep trying. I recently got a plant from work and was super excited because this was gonna be the one. This was gonna be the plant that I would win with, the bush that was gonna prove my insecurities about plant-killing wrong. I was going to be paroled and this plant was in love with me, just as I was in love with him...or her ...or it. I put my superwoman cloak on, adjusted my sail, bought a pretty little plant-watering thingie and 2 weeks later...it died.
I'm really starting to take it personal. Is it my aura? My energy? WTF?
The plant above is a plant that was in my possession in 1998. It was a little, puny one-root when I got it. But by now you all know...I'm not the one that held onto this guy. Nope.
When my plant-assassination powers revealed themselves (which was early on) I decided to foster this one to my mom. Mothers always get the plant thing right, don't they?
She's had it for 12 years and look at how beautiful it is? I still consider her my plant, because we went through some tough times together. When I visit my mom, I find myself sitting with my plant-sister. I tell her how proud I am of her growth, that she inspires me and that I'm happy that i had the courage to let her go when i did.