It has happened now 2 years in a row: I’ve been seduced by the luscious plant life engulfing the entrance to the grocery store, and I have succumbed to buying a plant. or 2. or 10.
I know I should stay away, but seriously, I just can’t say know. I want to be a gardener…but I’ve just never spoke the language of plants. And, I forget about them, and they eventually turn brown and die.
As a 10-year-old, I’d kill cacti, because I’d forget their monthly watering. As a 20-year-old, I bought this beautiful mini-tree at my parents’ grocery store, only to watch it waste away over a period of 4 months, never once looking as beautiful as the day I bought it.
Last spring, I bought this beautiful little fern, who, as of this afternoon, was down to about 2 living fronds. But I have hope for myself, because at the same time, 2 plants that were gifted to me last year have continued to thrive — er, survive — despite my negligence, and seriously, my monthly waterings and no plant food and no repotting. Two plants in my presence have survived a year with me. Queue Aladdin and Jasmine, because I’m entering a whole new world with you.
I’ve been itching for some amount of vegetables or herbs in my yard for years, and even moreso after our first year with our farm share CSA last year, and watching the incredible things my Washingtonian friends pull out of their vegetable gardens. Also, I have these two flower boxes that were a wedding present that have been vacant for the last year with no plants to love them.
So yesterday I splurged, on some Geraniums, Petunias and Lobelias for the flower boxes, and on 3 containers for herbs and veggies: cilantro, rosemary, chives and garlic to start with. I also picked up seeds for hot peppers, because we’re up to consuming 2-3 jars of jalepenos and pepperoccini’s a month, and why the heck not. It’s way past the time I should be planting seeds, but I’m eager to learn nonetheless, and whatever goes poorly this year will certainly help me for next year, right?
As we speak, the herb starts are planted in their pots, the flowers are lined up in their flower boxes, and the seeds are soaking in bowls atop the microwave.
This afternoon, as I was pouring dirt on myself in the process of replanting my oh-so-sad houseplants, husband told me I looked cute, and like I was enjoying myself. I was. I’m excited for the seeds atop the microwave, and seriously, if one of them turns out to look anything even remotely resembling a bud that might someday turn into a pepper, well, I’ll be tickled green.