Tags

, ,

I hope my plants know how much I love them…it appears that love makes me do crazy things, such as lugging home 20kg of soil–supported by a flimsy plastic bag that threatens to 1) give way anytime, and 2) amputate my fingers with its handles.  Perhaps all that weight-lifting would do me some good for my circus class.

Spent a good Wednesday evening propagating herbs, because THEY MUST NOT DIE.  And if they do forsake me…I gotta have backups).  I also did a cutting of purple basil some time ago–it was a gift to my sister from her student on Teachers’ Day.

L-R: Dill, Mint, Lemon Thyme.

I remembered Sim was coo-ing over a pot of purple basil when we went to the Garden Festival months ago.  I thought of her the first thing and wanted to propagate one for her.  The thing is…I have no idea why the purple is now turning green, and the colour combination of green and purple looks like the plant just got into a fight.  I researched online, and some people said it happens if the basil didn’t get enough sun.

Le Sigh…

Hello, but Singapore??!  I’m quite sure the lack of sun isn’t the issue and I’ve got the tan to prove it.  Well the cutting is looking healthy, but I’m not sure if I should be gifting that half-bruised-looking basil to Sim now.  It defeats the purpose if the purple basil isn’t purple, no?

I also think I went a little wild on my save-the-herbs backup plans, but as always, I’m nothing if not extreme.  I now have multiples of lemon balm, mint and thyme.  As of now, one tarragon cutting didn’t make it and I am starting to panic.  Need to do something about it quick.

Mum saw my works and was a little uncertain.

“Don’t you think it makes our corridor look a little…overboard..?”

All mine

I assured that I was going to gift away some of them, which was true anyway.  I doubt though, that she’d protest much even if they stayed.

And yes, it makes perfect sense gifting a purple basil that’s not looking it.

Mothers can be unpredictable, but one of the things I’ve learned is that if you engaged yourself in the same hobbies as she did, she’d prolly be more inclined to let you have your way with certain things.  Such as leaving a 20kg bag of soil lying in the corner of the tiny 3-room flat.  Such as placing a massive army of herb cuttings outside the flat.  Such as, I don’t know, stealthily shifting some of HER pots around the corridor to make space for YOUR own.

New pots of rosemary and thyme, conveniently placed on top of my mother’s pots. Seemed like the right thing to do.

Of course, if you live with a mother who is like my mother, and if you’re feeling brave and choose to, in one evening, perform all of the deeds listed above, make sure you employ the highest EQ possible as an added insurance to your personal safety.

“Of course I bought THAT amount of soil because I know you wanted to repot some of your plants.  They are wonderful for your roses and they won’t wither for at least another 50 years.  Or ever”.

Sharing is caring.  It works, apparently.  But don’t say anything about moving her pots.  I suspect that she’s already suspecting that I did it, and I suspect that she knows that I’m pretending I didn’t do it.  Whatever it is, remember: EQ.  If she didn’t bring it up…don’t bring it up.

Advertisements