Going Green

On certain days the only thing green about me is the ability to be green with envy.

My heart and my gut (and Al Gore) tell me I should be more responsible about the planet and our limited resources. As Pigpen, I seem to generate more trash than a family of eight. I'm a periodic recycler but I need to get better.

I'm not great with green things. If you send me a plant, I am guaranteed to kill it in record time. That's probably why I love fake plants. Every Spring, I put pretty flowers in the beds around our home. (Okay, Houseboy does it. I just watch.) Every year he gives me watering instructions. I do it for a while and then I:

Get busy
Get bored
Forget
Get lazy

And then, they die. One year they made it until September. I thought I was a miracle worker until I realized Houseboy was stopping by on a regular basis and doing my watering chore.

The Belle took this plant/flower situation to new heights. Last year she conferred with Houseboy about the type of flowers and the plants she wanted. Then her son sent her an enormous basket of multiple flowers for Mother's Day. I would've killed it in 10 days. She kept it flourishing for at least six months. I remember asking her, "What kind of weirdo are you? How do you do that?" She also had Houseboy buy us ferns. She loved them and tended to them. But once the crisp air of Fall arrives, you have to bring them inside where they wilt and shed. Two years in a row we had ferns. Two years in a row they were brought into the house. Two years in a row, I killed them. But, just for fun memories, I have these gigantic hooks in my sunroom where the ferns are supposed to be. I don't miss the ferns but I do miss the Belle.