Seriously, what gives?
There are plenty of green-thumbed-mother-earth types out there. I say this with envy because I, sadly, am not one of them. Most house plants I’ve owned (they have been few and far between) have withered and died within seconds of entering my home. This includes a cactus. Yes, I overwatered it.
But still, I figured that outdoor plants are resilient, even if they are potted plants. So, as long as I keep them watered and in the sunshine, they’ll be fine, right?
Wrong. Gardening isn’t relaxing, it’s not peaceful. It’s an endless battle against the force that seeks to destroy your plants, that’s what it is. That force? That’s ‘mother’ nature. I have no idea where the mothering went to. Maybe mother nature decided to become a career bitch and take up smoking, leaving all sorts of nasty things free to roam unchecked.
Since getting our plants in June, we have had a white fly infestation (tiny flies that literally suck the life out of plants – we lost a cantaloupe plant to the buggers), mealy bugs, more slugs than you can shake a stick at, caterpillars everywhere, including these guys that are as BIG AS MY LITTLE FINGER, and the latest is that there might be some sort of fungus growing on our grapevine. (maybe it heard through the grapevine that this was a good place to be. I’m sorry, I had to go there. I know, I hang my head in shame)
We’re on the fifth floor and we live in one of the most built up areas in the world. How does a slug climb five stories of a building in Hong Kong, I ask you? Well, ‘mother’ nature has figured some super slug enhancement in her lab, because there they are,five stories up, and what’s more, they keep coming back.
And I haven’t even mentioned the weeds that sprout everywhere and at a phenomenal speed no less (of course, they are completely unaffected by all the pests. That would have been too convenient, clearly).
I was looking forward to the soothing, therapeutic side of gardening. I thought it would be a nice way to take a break from writing and being on the computer all day. Instead I’m turning into a plant hypochondriac. At the first sign of a yellowing leaf I begin to fret and fuss, anxiously scouring forums that are the plant equivalent of web doctor, trying to work out what latest thing might be causing my plants to die.
Seriously. What gives mother nature?
PS: I do enjoy our little garden, really. It’s just that I’ve just finished a quick bit of gardening, and went mental at the sheer number of caterpillars I had to pick off the pomelo trees. Like ranting and raving aloud mental. Poppy, on the other hand, thought it was hilarious.
Also this begs the question: how the hell did the ‘good’ plants survive before man was there to pick slugs and caterpillars off their leaves, and fight it out with the white flies? Evolution missed a trick there.