There is, apparently, a part of the world’s population that thinks me one of the dullest wastes of space ever to have existed. The significance (or otherwise) of that part is perhaps to be debated, but I thought I should just throw it out there as preparation for this post. There’s not even any maths in it, so you know it’s got to be bad.
It’s about my plants.
First there was Plantje.
This photo’s actually a few weeks old – he’s grown a few more leaves since then. I’m just dull and lazy and haven’t taken a photo of him today.
Then there was Broertje, who, whilst not yet having made it out of his cradle, is showing signs of being more bolshy than his elder brother (typical middle child).
Yes, I lost the fourth chopstick somewhere. And by ‘somewhere’ I mean that I knocked it out of place and it fell down the side of the washing machine.
A few days ago, whilst clearing out some boxes, I came across some seeds I’d bought a couple of years ago, thought to myself, ‘What the heck,’ and tossed some into a sawn-off milk carton. Lo.
But the real shocker today is this:
All right, that’s Broertje on the left. He muscled into this shot. I’m interested in the…thing on the right.
This is either a lemon or grapefruit shoot. On the urging of My Mate Mulier, I’d taken a couple of seeds and stuck them in a jar with some compost. Now I know nothing about plants or gardening, so when Mulier told me that planting them in a pot with no drainage would likely end in nothing but waterlogging, I kind of shrugged and got on with my life. Occasionally I thought about, you know, tossing the things, but…yeah, I’m dull and lazy.
So when I wandered, bleary-eyed, into my kitchen earlier, and saw that one of them was GROWING – well. You can imagine my excitement.
And then came the realisation that I am, by the day, more and more, turning into my mother. Oh boy.