Outside my kitchen door lived a rosemary plant that served Camp Ramshackle well for many years. She was watered religiously with the same water that would clean our dinner lettuce. Then summer hit. The lettuce went bitter. And my method of watering ended.
A rosemary plant that gets watered almost every day likes it that way. Sadly, my trusted producer shriveled to a shadow of it's former self.
I planted a new rosemary to take it's place. Shamed by guilt, I did not take a picture of the dessicated carrion in the pot. But I felt I should share it and come clean. So I went down to the pile destined for wood chipping and present it here with great remorse.
I'm sorry rosemary. You were a champ and could have been a contender.
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Ha. My husband says my plants get out of hand because I feel too sorry for them to thin them out or cut them back. I can almost hear their little cries in the compost.
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