Plant Mum Fail

I am not a good plant mum. I inherited a plant when we moved into our flat three years ago. Was she unloved and abandoned? Were her previous owners sad they had to leave her and hoped that she would be cared for? I hope it's not the latter because then I have failed them greatly.

I come from a long line of green thumbs. My great grandmother Ma, would go into the yard with a drinking cup of water and pour a little on each of her plants and they flourished. After she died, my grandfather, Pappy, would go outside every evening with a long hose and tend to them, but they all withered away.

My granny on dad's side is a plant magician. She can cut a piece of a plant from someone else's garden, pot it and it grows. Growing up she was always talking about her orchids, anthuriums, and ginger lillies. In her yard you can find hibiscus and ixora plants, five finger, and mango trees.

My dad's first degree is in agriculture. He and mum have the most beautiful garden in the front of our house. They enjoy taking care of the plants and repotting them and can spend an entire Saturday morning gardening.

Even my brothers Kirk and Nicholas have inherited the green thumb. Kirk's plants grow into mini trees in his care and he even has a desert rose which blooms. Nicholas asked for plant pots for Christmas one year and has water lillies.

Then there's me. My first plant was Alice. A small cactus that I bought when I lived in Bordeaux. I spoke to Alice, I researched how to care for Alice, I tended to Alice, and I killed Alice.

One spring, at the office where I worked, the company gifted each employee some flower seeds and a mini pot for us to plant. In a few weeks everyone else's desk was adorned with beautiful green plants and flowers. My plant had a yellowish tinge to it. Eventually I gave it up for adoption and saw it thrive under another employee's hands. I would visit it from time to time on my way to the kitchen for coffee, but mostly I admired it from afar and wondered what I did wrong.

I currently have 2 plants. Actually, I'm not quite sure if one is still alive. I got her for Christmas and had the best intentions. But then she became so dry and prickly that Alba got scared of her and I had to evict her, so she's on the balcony. I might have killed an evergreen plant that can withstand snow and fire.

Then there's the one I inherited. She's a survivor. She never thrives but never dies. I water her when she looks sad and even give her a bit of fertiliser from time to time. I haven't named her and I haven't shown her much love. Since I inherited her as a grown up I just don't feel that emotional attachment. However, she's the one plant that I haven't killed (yet?). This is my 4th year with her and we're still plundering on.