Confessions of a Cereal Killer 2; Writing 101 Challenge – Day 13

Day 13 – On day four, you wrote a post about losing something. Today, write about finding something. You wrote day four’s post as the first in a series, use this one as the second installment — loosely defined.


So now I’ve confessed to being the The Black Thumb, what would you like to know?

My ‘modus operandi’?

That’s a tricky one. I’ve killed so many plants in very many ways, it’s hard to pinpoint one mode of operation.

I’ve killed:-

  • Herbs
  • Flowers
  • Bulbs
  • Vegetables
  • Grape vines
  • A very lonely lemon tree
  • Passion fruit vines
  • Ferns
  • Cacti
  • Aloe vera
  • Mushrooms
  • A rock garden.

And this is by no means an exhaustive list. In short, pretty much anything green. No wait, that’s not entirely true. I have green in my house. And yes I mean green of the plant growing variety.

I have three stalks of Oriental Japanese Ginger (Chinese? Asian at any rate), and four bottles of some kind of vine. The vine has spade shaped leaves if that helps you identify it. Spades as in playing cards.

These green ‘defiers’ live in recycled glass containers. Two wine bottles, one cordial bottle, one juice bottle and one coffee jar.

The crazy thing is that I only started with one vine. It keeps on growing little off shoots which keep on growing too. On the other hand I did start with ten stalks of the ginger.

I top up their water every other day and clean their various glass ‘houses’ every other month. When I remember I hit them with liquid plant food. Please do not ask me what variety. I don’t know. It comes in a spray bottle and I don’t have to eat it.

It completely baffles me as to why these green plant things continue to grow. At some moments in their lives the do look a little limp and worse for wear. Just when I think I’ve done them in, they perk right back up again.

Odd little creatures.

What amazes me the most is that I didn’t actually plant them. Their various jars and bottles are filled with water. From the tap. No special fertilisers, no planting and harvesting calendars and no crazy fertility rituals danced by the light of a full moon.

They just grow. And keep doing it, despite my best efforts.

It does give me a thought though. These guys are hale and hearty, while other ‘by the book cared for’ plants have screamed silently into their graves.

The only difference I can see is…dirt. Or a lack thereof. Perhaps there is something to that. A ‘modus operandi’ after all.


Would you like to read the other parts in this series?

Confessions of a Cereal Killer 1
Confessions of a Cereal Killer 3

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