Death to my plants
Something has happened to my ability to care for foliage. I don’t know how or why this happened but I can say to you, with the greatest confidence, that if there is a plant you hate you must bring it to my house. I will care for it and love it until its little shiny green leaves turn brown and wilt. Its flowers will drop off. Its soil will sour. I will return it to you, in no time at all, a shadow of its former self. I will present you with a stick.
I never used to have this problem. It’s very upsetting because I love plants and flowers and I’ve always done well with horticulture. For all of my life, I had lush, green, beautiful plants in my home. I had gardens of lilacs, iris, peony, strawberries, raspberries, flowering trees and other earthly delights in my yard. A year ago, I watched as friends and family carted off my big beautiful plants as I prepared to move to Sweden.
Perhaps this is payback from the gardening world. I gave away my plants and I am now poison to them.
My guy, believing that I could handle the responsibility for caring of plants, presented me with gorgeous lemon trees, orange trees, olive trees, and beautiful potted beauties. I was delighted. I loved them. And I killed them off… one by one. He finds this immensely entertaining and can not keep from smiling each time I mention the subject.
I heard that sometimes bad spirits (yes, ghosts) can make your plants die. Well, I thought. That must be it. We have an evil plant killing ghost in the house. But no, because now my guy takes care of all our household plants. He loves them. Each day, he strokes their leaves and runs his fingers over the soil (lucky plants). He nips away their little dead ends, mists their leaves, and they respond by growing strong and healthy. I have completely given up and stopped caring for them for fear that my deadly fire eyes might be the cause of another death.
I have to think that this is somehow related to my adjustment in Sweden. The humidity levels are different here requiring much less water. And there is also the lack of sunlight during the winter which must effect the growth of the plant. I, in turn, must adjust my care routine. Regardless, I just don’t get it. I’ve tried. Perhaps on the day when I can grow and watch a beautiful plant of my own respond to my nurturing touch is also the day when I have grown and truly made Sweden my home.