A client gave me dog toys for Christmas. Nobody told my cat Goon they’re not for cats.
I have a confession to make. My conscience demands it.
Every weekend I try to do some extra cleaning. You know the kind, where you really, really clean something on a semi-regular basis in an effort to keep on top of it. Well, last week I did the kitchen, which was disgusting because I figured out I can’t even remember the last time I did it. (Valid excuse: I was sick as hell. When I finally felt strong enough to do something about it, the holidays attacked. I did it as soon as I could!)
Fine. So my kitchen’s clean now. The guilt from leaving it gross for so long doesn’t even begin to compare to what happened today, though.
I intended to do the bathroom. It’s gotten more attention than the kitchen, because it’s smaller and bathrooms get really nasty if you don’t clean ’em. But it wound up being the plants.
I started watering my plants this morning, only to discover that one of them had been knocked clean out of the window and turned upside down, coming to rest on top of the radiator, poor thing. (Wondering how that happened? I have a kitten.)
So I fished it out, set it up with some more dirt, and… I kept hearing these sad little plant-voices.
Stupid human, they were saying. She promised us a good home, they whispered, while I looked around for the source. She even said she’d give us a new pot last week!
And then I realized what happened.
A couple weeks ago, almost three actually, I ran across a bunch of herbs for sale pretty cheap. So I picked some up. Rosemary, thyme, and basil, to replace the rosemary and basil I accidentally murdered by leaving them outside on a night that was way too cold for them. I brought them home, promising them a nice new pot and regular water. You know, the good life for a plant.
But what really happened was I set the poor little buggers down with the other plants, forgot to repot them last weekend, forgot they even existed. I barely remembered to water anyone last week, because it was so busy at work.
And now here they were, all sad and dried out, but still hanging on to life. I immediately found them a new pot, got them into it, gave the poor things water and access to the grow-light. They’re now sitting beside me, all sorts of happy, standing up and singing a little growgrowgrow song. Whew! Plant crisis averted.
And now, conscience clean, I can go on about the weekend. In other words, back to editing The Apex Mage.