My Brown Thumb Gets a Green Roommate

Confession time: I am not what you’d call a “plant person.” In fact, my thumbs are so un-green, they practically emit a faint brown aura. So, naturally, when my well-meaning friend gifted me a vibrant peace lily, I accepted it with the grace of a gazelle facing a cheetah – a healthy dose of fear mixed with impending doom.

“He’s called Ferdinand,” my friend chirped, completely oblivious to the internal crisis brewing inside me. “Just water him when the soil feels dry, and he’ll be right as rain!”

Right. Easy peasy. Except, Ferdinand and I had a rocky start. Okay, maybe “rocky” is an understatement. It was more like a full-blown natural disaster, complete with drooping leaves, a suspicious odor, and a near-death experience (for Ferdinand, not me, thankfully).