If You Need a Plant Killed, I'm Not Your Girl

I have a long and sordid history with plants and gardening.  I vividly remember all the houseplants my mom had while I was growing up. They were gorgeous, and they thrived under her watchful eye.  I remember planting flowers with her in our yard when I was a kid. In fact, my mom is so good at this stuff, I figured I’d obviously have a green thumb, too.

Apparently, green thumbs are not genetic.

It started when Paul and I got married and I decided I, too, wanted houseplants.  I decided to start with catnip. Something useful, considering we had a cat.  It was doing really well for a little while. Then I killed it.

Don’t ask me. If I knew what went wrong, I’d still have catnip.

My mother assured me that I couldn’t possibly kill a spider plant, as she handed me a potted and carefully cultivated clipping from her own spider plant. (Which I think is the same one she’s had since I was born. Or before that.)  In no time at all, I killed it.

My mother-in-law, who is also an avid gardener, and who is also very good at it, told me that aloe plants are invincible.  She gave me a shoot from her mother’s aloe plant.  I killed it, right around the same time her mother died. I was heartbroken, and guilt ridden. Heartbroken that my sweet grandma was gone, and guilt ridden because so was the aloe plant entrusted to me.

After the aloe incident, I called a permanent moratorium on plants.  I decided I have a black thumb, and I wouldn’t let any other innocents fall victim to my murderous ways.

Then we bought our house, and it happened to come with a rose bush, a rhododendron, six lilac bushes, and five peach trees.  I decided that I could handle it. I further decided it was time for me to start a vegetable garden in my new backyard.

Two peach trees died (I think they were sick when we got them.  Poor things), a honeysuckle vine took over one of the lilac bushes, and my resident groundhog family ate the vegetable garden.

Ten years later, we had two peach trees, five lilac bushes, a rhododendron, and a voracious honeysuckle vine.  I have never tried to grow a vegetable again.

Last year, we undertook a pretty major backyard renovation that included laying a patio and I suddenly had flower beds.  I went to Lowe’s and looked around for something to put in the flower bed, and ended up with a lot of pink flowers, because Joey’s favorite color is pink. I got perennials, so I wouldn’t have to do this again next year.

But something amazing happened. They lived. Every single thing I planted last year LIVED.  I watered, I weeded, and I enjoyed myself. Mostly, because I had help. The girls love to garden with me, just like I loved to garden with my mom.  I didn’t realize how zen gardening could make a person, till the girls and I started chillaxing together weeding.

And when those bright pink hardy hibiscus plants bloomed, we were so excited, we took pictures and posted them on Facebook.

Heartened by this, I took on some more gardening responsibilities this year.  First, we planted a bird friendly flower garden in our bird habitat outside the girls’ bedroom window.  It is gorgeous, if I do say so myself. We even accessorized it, with a copper sprinkler, a little castle, and a very heavy zen frog.  Not to mention all the bird feeders, of course.

For Easter, I had gotten the girls little gardening bags with kid sized gardening tools. I didn’t realize they had seeds in them. Moreover, I didn’t realize the seeds were for fruit and vegetables. So we have zucchini, peppers, watermelon, and sunflowers sprouting on our front porch. 

The girls are very eager to get them in the ground outside, but I refuse to plant a vegetable without a groundhog and bunny proof fence.  So, we’re kind of in a temporary holding pattern.  But, I have agreed to do it, which is a giant step for me.  We’re talking actual vegetables here, people. 

Incidentally, I also have zinnias, dahlias, pansies, petunias, lillies, and marigolds, and I’m pleased to report that they are all growing fabulously.

So maybe I don’t have a black thumb, after all.  Maybe I was just missing a gardening ingredient. I just needed my girls, to make it worth my time to sit outside and pull weeds. My girls actually make me look forward to planting and weeding and watering, and even getting dirty, because they love it so much. Their joy is my joy, apparently.

Go figure.

For Easter, my mother-in-law gave me a bamboo plant, figuring that even I can’t kill bamboo. They build floors out of it, right? Well, I haven’t killed it yet, and I’m not planning to. I have lots of help taking care of it, see? 

And, if the bamboo does die, I can totally blame the girls for it.