The Dirt Field

Plants irritate me. I like the way they look, I like the idea of a room filled with lush, beautiful plants, but I can’t stand the amount of commitment they require. The need to be watered regularly is just too much for me to handle.

It started back when I was teaching religion class. As a Christmas gift, one of my students gave me a pink pointsetta. The plant was hideous – the flowers looked like balled-up pink tissues – and I immediately removed the offensively festive red and green metallic foil from around the pot. Within three days of having the ugly and needy plant in my kitchen, I drove it over to my parents’ house and presented it as a holiday gift.

However, to thank me for teaching the class, that same student presented me with a cute little plant with bright yellow flowers back in May. I actually liked this plant with its perky little leaves and blossoms, so I kept it on the balcony and tried my best to water it regularly (at least once a month!). Despite my best efforts, it died a few weeks ago and I had to throw the entire crunchy mess in the trash.

The strawberries that I planted in a race with Caitlin to produce fruit have also failed miserably. Of the ten seeds I planted, only two ever actually grew. About two months ago, I had one tiny sprout and one nice little plant growing – and then I came home one day, and the tiny sprout was all that was left. My first inclination to assume that a hungry bird had plucked the little plant, but then I realized that it’s very likely that Caitlin sneaked over, uprooted my plant, and repotted it with her strawberries in hopes of gaining a competitive edge. Her plan worked; ever since the disappearance of the one plant, the little sprout has given up and stopped growing entirely.

Even the one plant that I have kept alive for seven months now (remember the pictures of the red amaryllis from last January?) has turned on me. When I realized that keeping it on the balcony in the heat (where I’d also forget to water it for weeks on end) was killing it, I brought it inside and displayed it prominently on the kitchen counter. I committed fully to watering it on a bi-weekly basis, and now the leaves are yellowing and the soil is covered with green fur. The last time I decided to care for it lovingly, the leaves rotted and liquefied, and became home for a large colony of fruit flies.

I have therefore decided that plants are just far too much effort, and I give up. I can take care of myself, and I can take care of my dogs, but plants just suck the life out of me.