It’s official: I have killed my rosemary plant by under-watering it. (Whatever that straggly thing off to the right is, it ain't rosemary.)
I feel like a pregnant woman who knows the facts of life but who finds herself asking, “How did this happen?” In both cases the answer is pretty straight-forward; there really aren’t that many routes to the particular result; yet the question remains.
(I should know better than to talk to my sons about—well, anything, if I want a straight response, but I don’t. When I tried out the analogy above on #1 son this morning, he said, “You mean you think you got pregnant because you didn’t water your plants?” To which the only possible come-back was, “You mean—that wasn’t it?”)
As I was saying, there aren’t all that many ways to kill a plant by under-watering it—you just don’t give it enough water—yet I foresee a week (at least) of sleepless nights, tormenting myself with versions of the question above.
Of course, it’s not really “How did this happen?” but, “How did I let this happen?” Why didn’t I notice the plant was dry? When I did water, why didn’t I water it more? It’s not as if the thing was tucked away in a locked closet; it’s right there in the living room. I spend a lot of my time parked within five feet of it, so why didn’t I notice? Because I wasn’t looking, of course. Oh, the shame.
Actually, I’m more irritated than anything else, but don’t tell the guilt-mongers.
I cut the thing way back and collected the (dry) leaves, which I rinsed, re-dried, and stored. Just in case this plant turns out to be closely related to Lazarus, I haven't chucked it yet. In a week or so, when the last three little leaves lose their faint green tint, it’ll be over.
This is nemesis. A year ago someone wrote a post about how to get rosemary through the winter (it needs to be cool), and all sorts of people commented, saying, “So that’s why mine always dies!” Me, I said, “So that’s why my rosemary is fine over the winter—my house is so cold!” And this year, what does my rosemary do? It up and dies.
Me and my big mouth.