I have killed every plant I’ve ever owned. Every. Single. One. I have the Black Thumb of Death. I could walk by a plant and my aura will kill it. I’m that bad. Terrible.
But, I am told, everything in Kenya grows. Indeed, you go around Nairobi and you’ll see beautiful gardens. Drive out a couple hours and the landscape is gorgeous. Everything from cacti, to exotic fruit trees, to every kind of flower thrives.
I had a chance. Well, I suppose it more like this: If I can’t keep a plant alive in Kenya, then I have no hope. So far, this land is working for me.
This is Basil:
Basil has been with me for several weeks and is doing really well. Full disclosure: I have a yard guy who comes by roughly once a week and he’s been helping me. He potted Basil because I was afraid to touch the plant.
The long rains, sun, and proper drainage have given Basil what he needs live, despite the poor quality of his owner. I’m going to follow instructions and water him twice a week when we get to the next dry season.
I have a good feeling about this. I haven’t killed the plant yet. I’ve even snipped some leaves for cooking and the plant is still alive. I think I can do this.
In fact, I think I may try another herb: mint. Baby steps. One herb at a time. I’m not going to do anything crazy.
I’ll keep you posted on my efforts.
Special thanks to Kelly, who is a gardening superhero, and to Scott, who advised me to simply eat the plant before I kill it.