From Black Thumb to Proud Plant Parent: My Journey Begins
Let’s be honest, folks. I used to be a plant killer. A serial succulent slayer. A notorious herb harvester (and by “harvester,” I mean I accidentally sent them to an early grave). If a plant had the misfortune of entering my home, its life expectancy plummeted faster than my patience during a furniture assembly project.
But then, something miraculous happened. I adopted a scraggly little peace lily from a clearance rack. It was less a conscious decision and more a “what’s the worst that could happen” situation. To my utter astonishment, not only did this resilient plant survive my care, it thrived. It sprouted new leaves, bloomed with graceful white flowers, and even seemed to tilt towards me when I entered the room (okay, maybe I was projecting).
