I couldn’t resist. Sorry.
A year ago if you had of told me I’d have a small collection of potted plants, I would have said, ‘Dream on’. I never thought I had the time for gardening much less the proverbial green thumb.
(I wrote a poem which semi-highlights my gardening skills – A Flower Called Joe. When all else fails, give the flora a new name!)
Now that I’m a pot plant addict, one could say I’m pottedly crazy. Somehow I’ve acquired the religious habit of watering my potted garden every day and finding regularly occasions to check in with my leafy friends.
I even talk to them. Mostly I tell them not to die on me.
I’ve yet to pick this little cherry tomato, but I think I’ll leave it for another day or so. Just so I can grin like a Cheshire cat and bask in the pleasure of gardening.
Isn’t it a total hoot to grow things?