I never met a plant I couldn’t kill. That’s what I always tell people. It’s not absolutely true. I have four house plants that seem unkillable. Don’t ask me what they are, because I couldn’t tell you. They are green, though. One is some kind of cactus, I think. Anyway, I have no idea how these four stay alive.
I’ve tried getting more plants, and I always ask the person at the nursery for plants that are hard to kill, but I still manage to kill them. I love the idea of having lots and lots of plants in my house. I just can’t seem to make it work.
Of course, according to the internet, the average household has five to ten houseplants. So, really, I’m not that bad, I guess. Then, why do I feel so bad at it?
Part of it is that I’ve really tried to have more. A few years ago, I even wrote a post about starting to garden as a hobby. It didn’t go as planned. I bought nine supposedly bullet-proof house plants. All of them died. I seeded the yard and nothing grew. I even dropped a few bulbs in. Who knows what happened to them?
The other reason I feel bad at gardening is because the plants that survive do so by sheer luck. When I’m trying, I find out whether they need full sun, partial sun, or shade. I find out how often they need to be watered, etc. With the plants that survive, I don’t even know what they are let alone what they need. I water them when I think of it and otherwise leave them alone.
Maybe I should get some new plants and ignore them and see what happens. Or maybe I should count my blessings with the four that I have.
