Orchid 9-1-1

 

Show of hands, who remembers the thing where I’m accumulating plants because, according to my brain ferrets, I can totally handle the responsibility?

mean girls raise hands

 

Damn.  Y’all are paying attention.

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!

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My Brain Ferrets are Garden Weasels

 

If you follow me on Instagram, you know that I’ve been on a bit of a bender lately.

 

Left: a purple calla lily plant; right: a cluster of small succulents.

My latest victims

 

 

High on Clara’s remarkable good health I went out and bought myself a plant that looked pretty but would have killed my pets.  He lives outside right now—remind me to check that he’s not toxic to bunnies, yikes.  Fresh on the heels of that near-miss, we were browsing Home Depot ( we might have actually been looking for mulch or weed killer or something else that goes outside—I really don’t pay any attention to the outside plants and they seem to appreciate it) when I saw a whole section of little potted things that promised they were easy to care for. 

 

You grow shit now!” my brain-ferrets yipped, pouncing and nipping in their excitement.

Uhh… You sure ‘bout dat, hoss?  Because—

And the brain ferrets were all, “SO FUCKING SURE!  THIS IS WHAT YOU NEEEEEEEED!”

 

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Call Me Doomfinger

 

Everyone’s aware I’ve had a rough time of it lately, yeah?  I mean, I don’t need to go into all the reasons I can’t handle even one more thing going wrong right now—you just understand, because you’ve been following along and you get me, right?

 

Y’all, Clara started dropping leaves.

 

keyboard with PANIC! key

 

What’s worse, the lovely people who gave her to me have moved away. 

 

What’s that?  You don’t see how that’s relevant?  Clearly you’ve forgotten my many issues surrounding gifts.

 

Don’t stop now – keep reading!