Gardening is a talent that I wish I possessed. Unfortunately, my thumbs are black, not green. All plants in my care seem to wilt with despair the moment I place them in my shopping cart. It’s as if they know they are doomed to fate they cannot escape. My granny did not have this affliction. She could put anything in the ground and it would flourish. I once asked her what her secret was. She said when she’s done planting she points at it and says “Live or die.” then she walks away.
When my granny passed away last year I was able to get most of the plants from her garden. I tried and tried, but it seems all odds were against me. Frost and pests claimed many. Others were killed by my kindness. Several plants have survived, however, much to my surprise. The plant pictured is one of them. I forget what kind it is. I thought it bit the dust last year, but apparently they die back every winter. All I did was water it and it started growing. Water, huh? Who knew?