When my late maternal grandmother was still alive and strong, she would never leave her house willingly, even for a few days. If she was, she would agonised over her garden, convinced that all her flowers would be dead by the time she’s back.
I used to smirk whenever she was in one of her dramatic imagination mode as I was sure that I will never be in that position to lose sleep over plants.
But coming home after being away for Chinese New Year, I was dismayed to find that a few of my flowers in such a sorry state. The worst thing was, as I was nearer to home, I was actually looking forward to seeing them, having visions of them blooming in glorious pinks and purples.
Fortunately, with some much needed water and pruning of dried leaves, they look almost decent again. In fact, some of of my pink flowers look set to bloom again tomorrow. My purples may need a few more days to revive itself and that is a picture of it in its glory days.
Now I understand the bond that binds a gardener to the garden – and if there is such as thing as health savings account for plants, it’s not a surprise that die hard gardeners would invest in one.
