- Demetri Martin
The above sentiment pretty much wraps up my experience with plants. It's not that I don't like plants, but I apparently have a hard time remembering to take care of things that don't actually remind you to take care of them. Pets and babies have this figured out, which is why I am an excellent pet/baby-sitter.
Over the summer, Precisely and I had a grand vision of keeping fresh herbs in our kitchen, and doing all kinds of flavorful cooking. He bought a basil plant, and I picked up some parsley from the farmers market. Approximately 2 weeks later it looked like this:
So we went back to using dried herbs for flavoring, and I once again gave up on the status of house plants. The status that says, look at my grown-up house, where there is so much stability and care-taking that living things grow and thrive here.
While home for Thanksgiving, my extremely-talented-when-it-comes-to-keeping-plants-alive mother found herself with some extra little houseplants, and promptly re-potted them and told me I was taking them home.
I rose to the challenge, going to Ikea and buying shelving for the plants to sit on so they will get sun, as well as more potted plants. I will have plants, and I will remember to water them, and they will not die.
So far, so good.
Look Mom, they're still alive!!
But the real exciting addition to our home in terms of plant life is the Christmas tree that Precisely got. It's darling, and smells great, and definitely makes the fact that it's been dark for hours before I get home less depressing.
Tis the season.