I do not have a green thumb. I missed the green gene in my family's gene pool. My Dad got it. My grandmother had it. My mother could have cared less if she had it...oh yeah...that's where I got it! My mom loved to look at flowers, but taking care of them in her busy life was an after-thought. So we never had flowers around unless they came wrapped in cellophane on her anniversary. Nor did we have them outside around the house unless an errant bee left a present in the wrong spot. My Dad DID have a garden, though. It was a vegetable garden, full of his favorite cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchinis and various other yummy salad fare. His green thumb was a healthy one!
Me, I attempted a garden a few times in my life, along with my husband, but all we got were a few tomatoes, green beans and a pepper...yes...one pepper. By the end of the summer we had almost enough vegetables for a salad. I tried growing flowers and herb plants in pots. Easy right? I forgot to water them. I finally threw my hands in the air and admitted it... I am a plant killer and my husband is my accomplice.
We swear each year that we will never do it again, but the sweet smell of Spring, the warm sun on our faces and the fact we live in the South where EVERYONE tends a garden, lures us to the local nursery every April. However, my husband has turned over a new leaf...pardon the pun...and this year won't even attempt to plant a fully grown tomato vine. So...I'm left to the dirty work.
Spring has been here since early March. The sun and sweet smell of the flowering greenery have called me. In a trance, I prepare the empty pots once again as something beckons me to drive to the local nursery. Once there I can hear the plants and flowers screaming....GET HER OUT OF HERE!
Me, I attempted a garden a few times in my life, along with my husband, but all we got were a few tomatoes, green beans and a pepper...yes...one pepper. By the end of the summer we had almost enough vegetables for a salad. I tried growing flowers and herb plants in pots. Easy right? I forgot to water them. I finally threw my hands in the air and admitted it... I am a plant killer and my husband is my accomplice.
We swear each year that we will never do it again, but the sweet smell of Spring, the warm sun on our faces and the fact we live in the South where EVERYONE tends a garden, lures us to the local nursery every April. However, my husband has turned over a new leaf...pardon the pun...and this year won't even attempt to plant a fully grown tomato vine. So...I'm left to the dirty work.
Spring has been here since early March. The sun and sweet smell of the flowering greenery have called me. In a trance, I prepare the empty pots once again as something beckons me to drive to the local nursery. Once there I can hear the plants and flowers screaming....GET HER OUT OF HERE!