You would think that we’ve been in a bubble, far away from the persistent cries of our faithful newspeople:”Remember the three Ps: plants, pets, and pipes!!”
I told Kevin last week that I felt like we weren’t doing enough, seeing as how we’re among the few in our neighborhood who don’t have bedsheets strewn over every shrub. His reply? “Pah. How many of our plants are tropical, anyway?”
…most of them?”
By then, it was too late: the wilting had already begun. They’re hearty little buggers, so I’m hoping they’ll come back once we hack down to (now) dead leaves. Still, I feel so bad when I look at those poor things, although, given my track record of killing the unkillable, they probably never had a chance to begin with. Poor, poor plants.
In other news, I’m considering adding a line item to the household budget for tea. Keeping my gigantic mug [thank you again, Mikey Boy!] full is becoming a bit pricey, but totally worth it. Hey, at least I’m rotating the old inventory in the cupboard through at a rapid rate—bonus!