I am, by not stretch of the imagination, what you would call a gardener. Hells no. I swear I was born with a black thumb, not a green one. Give me something green and leafy and unless it has 'drought resistent' written on the label, it's safe to say it will be withered and a sad shade of brown within a few months. Actually, wait. I remembering owning a venus flytrap back when I was fourteen, and that sucker stayed alive for ages simply because it could fend for itself. Tres awesome.
As much as I may try to combat these unfortunate planticide events from occurring, the fact is that gardening bores me batshit crazy, and weeding is a pet hate of mine. The whole time we were housesitting my parents place I felt myself fighting a losing battle as my mum happens to absolutely adore her garden with a passion (something I obviously didn't inherit) and I ended up hiring someone to come in and keep her roses alive. Win/win!
Since we've moved back into our unit, I was overjoyed to see that all the glorious drought resistent yuccas, agaves and grasses had all flourished and simply needed a little bit of tidying up and maintenance. Mum was more than happy to come round to help out because, let's face it, I still had no bloody idea what to do, and Carter was our designated waterboy.
So, where do you lie? Have you got an emerald shaded thumb or do you have an aversion to getting down and dirty in the garden like me? And did you ever own a venus flytrap? Or.. err... was that just me?