Location Taken: Frankfort, Michigan
Time Taken: May 2008
I’ve long had a mixed relationship with garden plants.
First thing to know, my Mom loves gardening. She’s got a large one full of all sorts of plants, and taught me much of what she knows. (Mostly by making me help her, but still.) I’ve been to garden stores many a time and can tell you the merits of many a plant.
However, I personally don’t care for gardening. I dislike grubbing around in the dirt and laying mulch and all the little chores that go with it. I also actually don’t care for flowers that much. I acknowledge their artistic beauty and move on.
I have all this knowledge and little desire to use it. Tragic, really.
But, as yet another twist, I occasionally buy house plants. Really resilient ones, because I don’t care for all those watering chores. They usually last a few years before too many times of my forgetting to water them adds up. Then I’ll go plant-less for a bit, before picking up another one.
I’m currently plant-less. Didn’t kill off my last ones, just didn’t have room to bring them along when I moved. I left them with my Mom. Perhaps she’ll plant them.
And now I’m getting the urge to once again buy a plant or two. Maybe an herb, cilantro probably, keep it in the kitchen…
But no, I shouldn’t. Herbs are delicate, I’d just kill it… But still…
Actually, you left those houseplants with me, since your mother has not returned from her post-Seattle vacation yet. And I needed room in the bathroom where you left them, so two weeks ago I moved them outside. I think the recent rainstorms drowned the one with the long leaves: it turned from green to tan.