Gentle Readers, I swear I didn’t MEAN TO KILL HIM.
I had the very best of intentions for dear, sweet Cornelius, so lovingly gifted to me.
But alas. I must announce my complete lack of nurture ability has led to the demise of Cornelius.
A moment’s silence for my prayer plant, so cruelly taken from me by either my inability to water him or my inability to stop watering him, who knows, it could have been either. The mystery of sustaining life eludes us once more. Also, my keeping him on a windowsill in direct bright sunshine, when the instructions are very clear they like indirect light only, but who knows what killed him. It’s a mystery. And not putting him in a properly humidified atmosphere. But why he died? We may never know.
I wrote to you in November of my ability to keep twelve seedlings alive. They’re dead too. I did not even manage to grow chard – chard – a vegetable so prolific it might as well be a weed. I suspect Flicks-sabotage on the chard seedlings though, as he pulled a disgusted face when I announced I had planted some chard. Everything else sprouted and then gave up.
Any suggestion this might be because I had started planting seedlings in November, right before the dead of winter and the least fecund months of the whole year when nothing is typically expected to survive will be SOUNDLY REBUFFED. It is clearly because I am incapable of sustaining life.
In my last post about my planting habits, I mused that perhaps I was simply not a nurturer of humans. Perhaps plants were where my gifts lay!
Plants are dead. Child entrusted to me would be dead. Pet would survive only by eating my body/leftovers/ringing up the neighbours and asking for food. I am not a nurturer.
Thus, darling Ma’s decision to turn up last week with Cornelius 2 seems somewhat….sadistic.
She swears she saw him at a plant fair, remembered that I loved Cornelius (and I did, to be fair, despite not being able to keep a single thing alive, I did love his beautiful leaves), and decided, Fuck it. Everyone deserves a second chance.
Anyway, I repotted C2, and popped him on some stones in a tray which is supposed to help with his humidity needs(???) and I’m checking his soil on a daily basis (apparently, you water him when the first two to three inches of soil is dry) and dear sweet baby Jesus, let’s hope he doesn’t die too soon.
Luckily, I think we’re starting back into the office one to two days a week soon, which is a blessed relief, because if so, I can relocate C2 to the office and the TLC of the Dream Team. Then he might survive.