People who know me know that I’m a serial killer of plants. I have never, ever been able to keep anything green from turning brown and dying—even if I try really hard to nurture it and read it books and stuff. For example, when Dustin asked me to marry him, he brought over some sort of plant, which I promptly killed. I put one of those clay worm soil-dampness checkers in it, watered it faithfully, literally cried when it withered up and prayed fervently that it wasn’t an omen for the rest of our marriage.
Luckily, our marriage seems to be thriving, but Dustin has decided lately that our apartment is a haven for at least two dozen potted plants, sprouts and seedlings. It’s a little excessive, and more than a little difficult for me to try to stay at least ten feet away from all foliage in order to prevent it dropping dead from my mere presence.
However, it really is darling to see him portend such a nurturing instinct as he transplants zucchinis and lovingly spritzes everything with water and brings everything inside when it gets too windy.
For everyone who doesn’t believe me, here’s Farmer Dustin with his plant jungle on our little teeny-tiny deck. I keep trying to explain to him that we can’t possibly grow all these plants, but he just tells me it’s food storage. :)
Luckily, our marriage seems to be thriving, but Dustin has decided lately that our apartment is a haven for at least two dozen potted plants, sprouts and seedlings. It’s a little excessive, and more than a little difficult for me to try to stay at least ten feet away from all foliage in order to prevent it dropping dead from my mere presence.
However, it really is darling to see him portend such a nurturing instinct as he transplants zucchinis and lovingly spritzes everything with water and brings everything inside when it gets too windy.
For everyone who doesn’t believe me, here’s Farmer Dustin with his plant jungle on our little teeny-tiny deck. I keep trying to explain to him that we can’t possibly grow all these plants, but he just tells me it’s food storage. :)
Yes, those are milk jugs. We're ghetto.
3 comments:
Not ghetto, just thrifty. Haha. So, maybe you should hurry up and have some kids so that you can make the lady at the pharmacy happy. Totally kidding. Please don't get knocked up at least for a year so when I leave you can go have a baby.
If my plants get sick can I bring them to your house to be brought back to life?
Well that depends Mrs. Pendleton. Just don't give them to ME to take home :)
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