All great truths begin as blasphemies.
George Bernard Shaw
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There is nothing to read here. The content is over there, to your right.
I may, however, at some point, put something here. Some day. Eventually. No pressure.
where's my scythe?
I kill plants.
Not as a hobby, mind you. I am just not a green thumb type of gal. Don't get me wrong, I would love to be! Hence why I continue to accept clippings of a variety of botanicals from friends and family. I don't necessarily buy plants, as I know that's just a waste of money. But gifts, well.. that's something else entirely.
I have killed the impossible to kill, including an aloe vera, a spider plant and an african violet. They were all in excellent health when arriving at my house. Within 5 months, all dead.
I watered them. I talked to them. I may have belted out a few show tunes even, just to keep them amused.
They were not.
Upon autopsy (medical examiner played by best mate L., herself an able plant owner)but no cause could be found. Too much water? Not enough water? Direct sunlight? Too much shade? The checklist went on and on, I was declared not guilty (no one is ever declared "innocent" in this society) and left to mourn by myself.
I have not let this stop me. I am currently in possession of three other plants (was 4 but the impatience was impatient for the long, arduous journey towards inevitable death and promptly went kaput): one jagged-edged-green-with-pink-in-the-middle-of-the-leaves kind, one fuzzy purple thing and one that looks like pot on steroids (chernobyl hemp, maybe?). I don't think those are the official latin names.. close, though, I'm sure. I call them Mick Plant, Elton Plant, and JerryGarcia Plant. (The dead impatience was (hardly a surprise) Robert Plant.)
Keep your fingers crossed for me. They seem to be doing fine. And I won't sing to them. I promise.
I have a goldfish. He's of the Koi variety - white belly, orange back. His name is Sushi.
I used to have two goldfish.
Want to guess where this story is going?
soundtrack:Falco - "Rock Me Amadeus"
Not as a hobby, mind you. I am just not a green thumb type of gal. Don't get me wrong, I would love to be! Hence why I continue to accept clippings of a variety of botanicals from friends and family. I don't necessarily buy plants, as I know that's just a waste of money. But gifts, well.. that's something else entirely.
I have killed the impossible to kill, including an aloe vera, a spider plant and an african violet. They were all in excellent health when arriving at my house. Within 5 months, all dead.
I watered them. I talked to them. I may have belted out a few show tunes even, just to keep them amused.
They were not.
Upon autopsy (medical examiner played by best mate L., herself an able plant owner)but no cause could be found. Too much water? Not enough water? Direct sunlight? Too much shade? The checklist went on and on, I was declared not guilty (no one is ever declared "innocent" in this society) and left to mourn by myself.
I have not let this stop me. I am currently in possession of three other plants (was 4 but the impatience was impatient for the long, arduous journey towards inevitable death and promptly went kaput): one jagged-edged-green-with-pink-in-the-middle-of-the-leaves kind, one fuzzy purple thing and one that looks like pot on steroids (chernobyl hemp, maybe?). I don't think those are the official latin names.. close, though, I'm sure. I call them Mick Plant, Elton Plant, and JerryGarcia Plant. (The dead impatience was (hardly a surprise) Robert Plant.)
Keep your fingers crossed for me. They seem to be doing fine. And I won't sing to them. I promise.
I have a goldfish. He's of the Koi variety - white belly, orange back. His name is Sushi.
I used to have two goldfish.
Want to guess where this story is going?
soundtrack:Falco - "Rock Me Amadeus"
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