Some people have green thumbs. I am not some people. My thumb does nothing for plants except hold open the garbage bag as I dump the dry, dead plant carcasses into it.
I love plants. Unfortunately, my love is smothering, like the way a small child may love a caterpillar so much that it eventually goes belly up to avoid being trapped in a kleenex box for one. more. day.
I have no idea where I got my non-green thumb from. I used to say it was because my house didn't have many windows. Unfortunately, in my new house I can no longer use that excuse. I used to over water my plants, like a child feeds his goldfish hourly, until, yes, he floats to the top, stuffed but dead.
I didn't realize I was a chronic overwaterer until I had to throw several deceased plants out to the plant graveyard, and as I dumped out the pots, I found rotted roots and inches of water...hmmm. I guess that means they were overwatered.
Then, I erred on the side of caution and didn't water them until they were practically bent at the waist, scraping the carpet for bits of dog drool to quench their thirst. That didn't work either.
Now I try to water them every four to six days. I have successfully kept this plant alive for 9 months...well, not totally successfully. So I send out a plea to my mom (who says she still reads my blog!)
Please save him!
