Herb life

by - June 23, 2017

When we first moved into our apartment a few years ago, Dad Pham told me under no circumstances was I to get plants because I’d kill anything dead and make a mess and fill the garden with weeds. Father knows best so I left it alone for two years. Then one day on the way back from Boxing Day shopping at Pacific Fair where I bought everything full priced and shamed Little Sissy Pham’s gay friends to the core, we stopped off at IKEA for more impulse shopping. But this time I bought a stack of self-watering planters on SALE. Finally!

This IKEA planter is perfect for the lazy gardener (i.e. me) because you water the top pot and it trickles all the way through. Minimal effort, maximum impact - that's my life motto.

Surprisingly, I've kept my herb garden alive for half a year. Though, if I’m real - there have been some unfortunate events and a couple of deaths. First, I let a bunch of insects obliterate most of the herbs. Then when I tried to remedy it I didn't know to spray the plants at night and sunburnt the heck out of the surviving leaves. But with some patience and care I was able to salvage most of the plants and they're thriving.

There's something therapeutic about caring for plants. It's rewarding seeing something flourish directly because you worked on it. It's also bloody delicious having fresh herbs to throw into your dishes. Still, it’s early days - I could well be writing an obituary for my plants soon. Dad does have a way of being right about things. Like that time he told me I was too stubborn a child he couldn’t raise me properly so had to let me do my own thing and learn life the hard way, and I refuse to believe that he didn't raise me because that’s absurd and I always know best. He can't tell me how he parented me!

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