July 19, 2018

The Plant Killer


I have never had luck growing plants of any kind. I rarely plant-sit for anyone for fear of killing their beloved babies.

I shy away from growing anything of my own because (in the words of Anne Lamott), "They'd end up looking like I'd watered them with Agent Orange...you'd see it clutching its little throat, staring at you with its little Keane eyes, gasping and accusing--and I mean, who needs it?"

So recently when I walked out my front door and noticed a bloom on a bush I'd hopelessly planted last year, a scream erupted from my lips.

What was this? How had this plant survived the extremely cold winter and the water-less summer days? I knew it wasn't me because my track record is dismal, and yet, here was proof that I could actually grow something!

A little purple flower hung waving in the breeze. I ran over to make sure it was real and discovered multiple buds clustered around it. MORE?! I was growing more than one? I could hardly contain my excitement and flung myself down, pulling out weeds around it, as if I knew how this was done.

I sat admiring it and feeling all philosophical.

Isn't that just like us? I thought, we bloom in the most unexpected conditions, with very little watering and next to no attention. Yet here we are.

One day a plant-killer, the next day a bloom.


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