Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
I have a friend with a "green thumb." In summer, her garden
positively explodes with every colour and shape of flower. Inside her home,
plants fill every nook and cranny—all looking smugly healthy. Compared to the
2.5 houseplants I can barely keep alive—one's half-dead and the others are
barely hanging on—her in-house jungle makes me feel a bit ashamed.
Her advice to "talk to your plants" falls on deaf ears, no matter how often she gently reminds me. I was raised to believe that talking to yourself was a clear sign of mental instability. When Dave chatted with the lizard by the sink, I blamed it on loneliness—but plants? The idea of murmuring sweet nothings to houseplants triggers a firm "hell no" from me.
Instead, I've decided to explore other ways to make our plants happy. Here's what I'll try: every day, I'll take a close look at the plants to observe which leaves are growing and which are dying. Next, I'll do a bit of garden care—checking how moist the soil is. If this makes them perkier, I might even consider repotting them. And if that works, who knows? Maybe I'll start whispering to the ficus after all.
Her advice to "talk to your plants" falls on deaf ears, no matter how often she gently reminds me. I was raised to believe that talking to yourself was a clear sign of mental instability. When Dave chatted with the lizard by the sink, I blamed it on loneliness—but plants? The idea of murmuring sweet nothings to houseplants triggers a firm "hell no" from me.
Instead, I've decided to explore other ways to make our plants happy. Here's what I'll try: every day, I'll take a close look at the plants to observe which leaves are growing and which are dying. Next, I'll do a bit of garden care—checking how moist the soil is. If this makes them perkier, I might even consider repotting them. And if that works, who knows? Maybe I'll start whispering to the ficus after all.
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