A towering amaryllis in a tiny pot appeared on the doorstep. Despite a consistently brown thumb, I transplanted it. Predictably, it died. After suitable mourning and procrastination, I found space to hide yet another failure among other deserted pots.
Then, from the dead, abandoned amaryllis: one tentative green tip emerged.
Eileen gets along better with words than with plants, making house plant survival a small miracle.
No matter the number of failures, there is hope.
I love this not only because it’s well written but also because I have the same house plant problem!
Lovely! Hope forever alive. x