Green thumbs are for skilled people. I prefer the title of black thumb, because it means people don't give you plants on the grounds that it would be considered cruelty to flora.
This year, in the vein of extremely belated new year's resolutions, I decided that it would be awesome to keep an herb garden on the balcony of my apartment, so that I'd have fresh herbs for cooking purposes at all times. Fantastic and magical sounding! And, over the past five months, I've convinced myself that this it not nearly the bad idea that it sounds, given my genocidal history with every garden that I have ever tended.
Yesterday, I picked up my herb garden from my parents' house! Father built one for me, since his parsley was overgrowing and he had a hardy oregano plant that, I suspect, he suspected could survive me. Add in basil, thyme, rosemary, and another type of basil; voila, garden! Brought it home, put it up on the balcony, fawned over it lovingly for a few minutes.
This morning? Snow.
SNOW IN LATE MAY. Why, Canada, Why?
The plants are cowering in a corner, huddled for warmth as the rain falls now, fearful of a plunge in temperature.
And the lesson learned? Never let Alex have a garden. It summons the apocalypse of spring.
On less of a plant-killing note: Greetings to everyone new on my list! The name is Alex and, despite its androgynous connotations, the bearer is most decidedly a woman of 27, born of the Canadian persuasion. Have danced in and out of fandoms for most of my life, currently residing in Star Trek XI and enjoying the ever living awesome of it. Full-time paper pusher, part-time aspiring novelist with one in the editing stages, a second in fledgling writing stages, and a third launched as a co-authored venture of awesome. And hungry, therefore cutting this short to go get some food.
NICE TO MEET EVERYONE!