I am the kind of person who gets heart-broken when a plant dies, especially when it has showed strengths and courage to grow out from a seed placed on a simple, wet cotton pad.
A few weeks ago I started my 2021 nursery with cucumber seeds. The baby plants started growing nicely on their plate, but I got too excited as it got warmer and lighter outside, and instead of being patient and potting the babies into small pots with soil and keeping them indoors, I moved them directly into the space outside on the balcony. And then temperatures went down again: they did not make it.
I tried then with tomato seeds, hoping my chances would be better. They barely made it longer than the one on the pic. My lone survivor of the 2021 colony. It looks this time like it was too warm inside, and I forgot once to put water on the plate before going to bed. Only this one made it and I doubt it will last that long.
Strangely, so, I manage to feel guilty: I killed the plants with my impatience.
Have I lost my 2020 green thumb?! Hopefully not.
I have now high hopes on the avocado finally growing a nice root in its water; the sweet potato we've been neglecting in our diet has grown a new weird black branch; and some regular potatoes are waiting to be potted outside in the coming days. The raspberry tree I bought at Landi enjoys the sun, and as usual I have absolutely no idea what I am doing there. As for the tomatoes, I decided to stop the cotton pads and instead pot them straight into a mini green house in soil.
Freestyling to its best, yet with a guilt factor when I mess up. I think I need to calm down here.
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