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September 5, 2006
Black Thumb, Green Heart
But I really, really try. Really.
My mother appeared on my doorstep with an enormous fake tree.
“I don’t want it,” I said, rather ungraciously. Although she already knew this, considering she’d called me earlier and announced her intention of bringing over the fake tree, and I asked her not to. Well, actually, I told her not to.
“Just let me bring it in,” she said. “And then you can mock it, and I’ll take it away.”
“Okay, fine,” I grumbled. And she brought in the plant, placed it in my living room and looked at me. “Well?”
“No,” I said.
“I don’t think she’s going to go for it,” my mother, ever perceptive, said to Sam. He just giggled.
“I told you. I hate fake plants,” I said.
“Not all fake plants are bad,” she argued.
“Yes, they are. Oprah even said so,” I bleated.
It’s always an act of desperation to invoke the Gospel of Oprah, but I really didn’t want the fake tree in my house.
“She did not,” my mother said.
“Yes, she did. She had a whole show on it. There was a woman who was obsessed with fake plants, and Oprah said they were tacky and insisted that she remove them all from her house,” I said.
“I was going to bring you a real plant . . . but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I thought, what has the poor plant done to deserve living with you?” Mom said sadly.
“I’m not that bad,” I said sulkily.
But George had started laughing. “Whitney has a black thumb. A green heart, but a black thumb,” he said, cracking himself up so much he had to wipe tears from his eyes.
I’ll admit, this stung. Because the truth is . . . I do have crap luck with plants. I kill everything. Everything. I’m the only person I know who can't keep a cactus alive. I can’t tell you how many times a Home Depot employee has handed a plant to me and said, “This one's easy to take care of” . . . only to have the leaves curl up and turn brown within a month.
And it’s not that I don’t try! I do! I follow the instructions – I water, I fertilize, I provide adequate light. And it’s all to no avail.
As I type this, my staghorn fern is languishing on the wall. Everything I’ve read about staghorn ferns has claimed that they’re low maintenance. That all they need is a quick, twenty-minute dunk in a bucket of water once a week, and they should flourish. Yeah, well. I did that.
This is what a staghorn fern should look like:
And this is what my staghorn fern looks like:
Pitiful, no?
But as pathetic as I am, I still refuse to resort to fake plants. I’ll just try watering a bit more . . . and maybe buying some new fertilizer.
And if that doesn’t work, I’ll do what I always do in the end . . . shove the plant outdoors, and announce loudly that if God wants the plant to live, it’s up to Him to take care of it.
Posted by Whitney at 6:00 AM | Comments (12)
Comments
I "accidentally" drop them. In the trash. "What happened to that [fern, cactus, geranium that my mother gave us]?" Navy Guy will inquire, his gaze sliding to the trash can.
"What plant?"
Every finger on both of my hands is black. Sigh.
Posted by: Alesia Holliday ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.literarychicks.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at September 5, 2006 7:11 AM
My first husband had the blackest thumb of all -- he's the only person I've ever known who could kill a fake fern. (His parents were out of town and he faithfully watered all his mother's plants as promised, including a fern he didn't know was silk. It molded and rotted, to his mother's exasperation and amusement.)
Not that I'm much better!
Posted by: cbahm at September 5, 2006 8:21 AM
Hahahahaha - just spat out a mouth of tea laughing at Whitney's post and the comments.
Which puts me in mind of a plant incident. A while back, a friend was leaving the Netherlands and couldn't take his plants with him. He asked if we'd take a particular plant for which he had a strong emotional attachment, so we said yes. When it arrived, it was an ugly 6ft tree with twisty, twiny branches but no leaves.
"It's an Easter tree," Departing Friend told us. "You hang decorations on it at Easter. It's traditional!"
So I watered/nurtured it, and we hung decorations on its twisty twiny branches at Easter. And then, one day, Another Friend who was visting asked me what it was.
"It's an Easter tree," I told her, wondering why she was asking because she'd lived in the Netherlands for years and years, therefore must already know.
"Aha, that's why I didn't recognize it at first," she told me. And then, because of my puzzled expression, she added, "It is a dead Easter tree. I didn't recognize it because it doesn't have leaves."
At that point I stopped water/nurturing it because what was the point? And shortly thereafter it "mysteriously" disappeared from my apartment, never to be seen again.
Posted by: Michelle C at September 5, 2006 9:16 AM
Oh, Michelle, that is so you. Faithfully watering and nurturing a dead plant in the name of friendship.
Whitney, I'm with you, babe. I once killed an aloe plant.
The LC Eileen
Posted by: Eileen at September 5, 2006 9:38 AM
I killed an aloe plant, too! If it wasn't raining out, I'd take a picture for you (it was the last plant I shoved outside).
Posted by: Whitney at September 5, 2006 12:49 PM
Whitney, Lowe's (and probably Home Depot as well) will replace any plant you buy that dies, for any reason, including negligent herbicide. For up to a year after purchase. Save those receipts, is all I'm sayin'.
Posted by: Beth at September 5, 2006 12:50 PM
There seems to be a trend here . . . are all writers black of thumb?
Well, Lani isn't. I've seen her house, she has a gorgeous little garden out in front. Get this . . . she even has koi! Koi! I can't keep a cactus alive, and Lani has a koi pond! Sigh. I feel so inferior.
Posted by: Whitney at September 5, 2006 12:54 PM
I kill most of my plants. I've also been known to kill off a few vodka bottles. I think that is a trait common to other writers as well...
the other Eileen
Posted by: Eileen at September 5, 2006 3:12 PM
Oh this is great! I have found a home for the botantically challenged. Who knew what rewards this site would yield. LOL I come from a long line of women who could plant a dried up stick in the ground and 24 hours later a beautiful tree would appear. I also have killed many a Cacti, Aloe plants and the like. Thank you all for your honest posts. I now have the courage to refuse all well-meaning offers of, "this one you cannot kill!" LOL
Posted by: Cindi at September 5, 2006 8:51 PM
I'm right there with you on killing things that shouldn't be killable. My latest? A palm tree. I didn't think it was really possible to kill a palm tree. I mean, they live in the desert, right? So they should be used to heat and little water. And yet, it still died. Right now it is sitting, very pitifully, on the front porch with the hibiscus I also killed. I have now placed hubby in charge of all growing things at our house.
Posted by: Dia at September 5, 2006 10:04 PM
Not to worry Whitney, each of us has our own little death talent. I have a BIL who is death to computers, my DH is death to lawn mowers and vacuum cleaners commit suicide whenever I am near.
Posted by: Wendy at September 6, 2006 12:10 AM
*sigh* Come and sit next to me; I have the Black Thumbs of Plant Death too.
Posted by: aadams73 at September 6, 2006 4:28 AM
