When P.J. and I moved in together, we received a housewarming plant. And even though I have a solid track record of alternating between over-loving plants (watering and pruning within an inch of their lives) and letting them die slow, neglected deaths, I seemed to be doing okay with Planty.
Even when I didn’t allow for proper drainage, Planty persevered.
And that time[s] I forgot to water Planty for roughly three weeks, he still grew another inch.
We had a good, bizarre run for seven years.
However, the other day I had the brilliant idea of moving our indoor plants to the outside patio. Lovely fresh air, a consistent watering schedule, and gentle exposure to the elements. Seven years of neglect + three days of awesome treatment =
A dead Planty.
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| “I can still tend the rabbits, George? I didn’t mean no harm, George.” |
…I’m so sorry, Planty.
I’ll miss your tough-as-nails, Can Do Midwestern attitude, and foliage of indeterminate origins.
Rest in peace.
(And if you wanna see what I’m doing when I’m not killing shrubberies, check out my guest post over at the awesome Greta Funk’s GFunkified! She’s the coolest, her Great Expectations series is fabulous, and my post is…concerning my failures as a wife and mother. Enjoy!)
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