Green Foot

I have never been good with plants. I forget to water them. I water them too much. I plant seeds and then realize I can't tell the weeds from the plants. I have planted wildflowers by scattering seeds. I plant grass and it somehow makes it into the flower beds but refuses to grow on the lawn. I have one plant in the house, and only because it is so hearty it can't die. In fact, it made little plant babies!

This year I am undertaking a lot of outdoor work. I am, of course, attacking the pricker bushes that are threatening to take over the earth. There are a lot of those. I rip them right out of the ground and lop them up. I am also attempting to plant a some vegetables this year - tomatoes, beans, and pumpkins. Fun! And useful. But first I need to yank out the weeds and turn over the soil. Therapy.

But it rained, so I couldn't do any work outdoors today. Instead, I decided to transplant the smaller plants, the plant babies, into new pots. Only while I was trying to do that, I was having trouble untangling them. Maybe the plants were too close for too long and merged together? I don't know... All I know is that, without applying too much pressure, I somehow snapped the main plant off at the base. And broke it. Off completely. My one plant. The one that survived weeks of neglect. For years.

I tried to fix it. I tried putting it back, as though it would fuse back with the roots somehow. And I tried to bury the base in the dirt, making it stick up, thinking that maybe it would grow new roots. But it fell over. I'm worse than Charlie Brown.

Maybe it's not so bad. Maybe the babies will still be OK. But I'm leaving them in the big pot. I don't want to wreck anything else.