I kill plants. I try, I really try to have a green thumb. I purchase lush specimens of nature all through the short summer, only to watch them wither and die. I'm so ashamed of my frequent slayings, that I dispose of the corpses early in the morning, loading the fragile skeletons into my car and putting them in the dumpster at the grocery store. (Rather than clog up my buildings only average sized trash can).
In my house cleaning blitz, in preparation for a cozy winter and holiday visitors, I went out to the balcony this morning to inspect the damage--it's like a slaughterhouse for green leafies, the horror!
I think I might just get a half dozen small evergreens, those are easy to keep alive, right?
ps. The only plant that defies my special talent is a....Geranium. I HATE Geraniums. I only got this one by mistake, it came in a mixed planting pot, and only became truly visible after the others had died of course. This little stinker won't give it up, it keeps clinging to life even though I actively encourage it to go to the other side.
