This takes me back to my flat on John St South.It always seemed to take on the appearance that it was autumn, with brown leaves covering the carpet under the limping branches of various plant species that I had introduced to my exotic indoor climate.
I tried everything. I scheduled their feedings. I dusted their leaves. I tried to recusitate them with CO2-laden words of love. I shifted their soil. I even dragged them across my carpet over the course of the day, tracing the rising and setting sunlight shining through my south-facing windows.
But to no avail. Because I have been born with a brown thumb.
And here is yet another example of my decaying plant-life. Mind you, these are herbs (pronounced 'hhhherbs' in the UK, lest you raise suspicious of growing more than just mint and basil in your flat, i.e., 'erbs').
The plant to the left is a newer arrival, replacing the previous pot of greek basil which died a quiet death over christmas (it was thriving before I deserted it!). To the right, is a failed attempt at keeping coriander - a tricky one.
One of these days, I'll have that oasis in the city.
