I bought a little plant of mint
And named her Hemingway.
I carried her about my house,
She made us light and gay.
Plants and I have disagreed,
But do not be dismayed.
For surely I can thrive that plant
Which brings mojito day.
This is Hemingway and I love her so much I wrote her a poem.
Every morning the girls and I put her in the sun and give her water. I tell the girls to say nice things to her, and Ayla does, when she thinks no one's listening.
I have never ever managed to not kill a plant or a flower. I even killed those bamboo things that apparently need no care at all. But Hemingway and I are going to make it. And one day soon, I am going to put her above my kitchen sink.
In my kitchen. The one that is not anyone else's but mine.
Ayla took these photos which struck me as beautiful and tender:
And Indy and I snapped each other:
Happy Mother's Day.
I love you.
I promise not to commit floracide over the weekend.
--V
.... does Hemingway have a brother???
ReplyDeleteNah... nevermind. I've a black thumb.
People always ask me about gardening...and truthfully, I have no idea. The flowers I work with are already dead, technically.
ReplyDeleteI killed my bamboo, too. But there's a pathos plant that was in my office the day I moved in and it's still alive. I have no idea how. Sometimes I water it twice a week, or once a month.
ReplyDelete