I know nothing about gardening or flower care. Zilch. Zero. Nada. Lutho. But every now and then I have the strange desire to adopt a plant or 2 and discover what I hope are latent green fingers.
So far there have been various failed attempts. I went through a moderately successful phase of nurturing a veggie patch which produced giant chillis, fragrant coriander, thyme and parsley, sweet peppers, juicy tomatoes and fluffy varieties of lettuce. The carrot growing mission was a bit of an epic fail. But alas, after a few months of intensive care courtesy of Google and gardening forums, and coupled with regular digging and dousing with nutrient-rich worm wee, I kinda got distracted somewhere along the way. I now have arid heaps of sand where once my veggie patch held pride of place. And one lonely potato growing pitifully above the soil instead of below it. Go figure.
|First pepper in veggie patch – I was such a proud mum!|
I also still have the dried out carcasses of 4 cactii killed in my care, as a vivid reminder to give up on the horticultural aspirations. The rose tree I planted in my rocky garden has, however, managed to bloom at least 3 times, and this has perhaps been my most successful botanical venture to date.
|Rose bush – so pretty!|
Enter my peace lily. The latest house plant to be subjected to one of my tree-hugging phases. Supposedly one of the hardiest house plants around. After the second week she was still looking pretty good, such that I tweeted & Facebooked that I thought The Hubster and I were ready to progress to kids.
However, another week later Lily is looking decidedly troubled – and I will not post any pics of her until she is in a better state. I Googled a bit and found she was likely unhappy perched under the living room light (peace lilies don’t like direct sunlight, so I assume light bulb rays have a similar negative effect – maybe? No? Oh I don’t know.) I also found she probably resented being slap bang in the path of the aircon’s chilly blowing (Lily & her peers apparently dig room temperature and humid environments). And I realised I might have been over-watering her. So I’ve moved her to another spot and now give her leaves a morning spray with lukewarm water, rather than drowning her in her soil. I talk to her (after The Hubster has left for work, because he already believes his wife is a nut job and couldn’t deal with further convincing). I snip any dead bits off (of which there have been many, sadly).
Right now, her 7 beautiful big white leaves have been reduced to 3. But I do believe that Lily is just overcoming a little bump in the road and my spectacular mothering skills will eventually see her through.
Until then, please keep Lily in your prayers. You see, in my mind she’s the predecessor to pets, which are the predecessor to kids. So if we don’t get past the starting block and keep killing off our pseudo offspring, there is no just no hope that we won’t do the same to a child in the first month.