I wish I was a farmer

Last weekend a dear friend gave me a beautiful hibiscus plant.  She did all the prep work for me, fertilizer and all.  My only job is to water it regularly.  She even put it in the perfect spot.  So why am I nervous?  Because I have a secret.  I kill all plants.  Everything.  Yes, even basil (the weed of herbs).  I haven’t been able keep anything alive in years (kids are harder to kill). My intentions are always good, but many a Mother’s Day flower-pot has met a sad ending.  It’s the whole sowing part  I have to get down. I can’t just be reaping.

The only chance this plant has to survive is to humiliate me into taking care of it properly.

So, I hereby promise to water, nurture, love this plant.  I will not ignore it.  I will not let it dry out and wither like my topsy turvy tomato pot, or my mini-herb garden that became an outdoor liter box for the neighborhood cats, or my beautiful overpriced hand painted strawberry pot – which only bore me shame and disappointment.

Here is my new baby – I’ll post updates regularly (and honestly).  I hope someone feeds and loves my kids, I can’t do everything.