I have a confession to make.
I kill plants like it’s my job. And no I don’t mean pesky weeds, I could probably make those thrive. I mean nice, pretty, joy inducing plants; the kind that sort of breaks your heart when they are all droopy and dead.
It’s been quite a few years now since this started happening. When I lived with my brother when I first moved out we had two plants. They were the most resilient buggers in the world. Every other month or so, Michael would go away to a world cup for two weeks and it would just be me and the plants. The first time, I was completely oblivious to the plants. I did nothing to help them live. When Michael got home, he was all “did you even water the plants ONCE?! Jill, you can’t just leave them to DIE!”.
Nope, I hadn’t…
View original post 310 more words