Me and plants don’t get on. Actually, that’s probably a bit unfair, given that it suggests some kind of mutual responsibility for the situation.
Clearly, the only one to blame when a plant under my care fails to survive is the plant. If I could sue the plant for the distress caused by its untimely demise, I most definitely would. And when I say that, I’m definitely not trying to shift the blame through a sense of guilt.
It’s a big shame (as I’m sure the plant would agree), especially as I love plants, and also value their positive effect on my life, something I blathered on about in a previous blog post. But despite (or perhaps because of) my love for plants, their health only ever appears to go in one direction.
I water the plant. It dies a bit. I leave the plant unwatered. It dies a bit more. I put it in the sun. It dies a bit more. Everything I do seems to move my plants one step closer to death. Meanwhile, another plant with a scythe looms ominously in the background.
Here’s a video about my fraught relationship with plants. I definitely didn’t make this video just so you won’t ask me to look after your plants while you’re on holiday.
How are you with plants? Do they flourish in your care, or are the outcomes of your plantal relations a source of secret shame?