Dear Diary: I am a horrid gardener

Dear Diary,

I spent the week catsitting at my mom's house (I miss the kittens already), living a life of luxury with a car, a giant house (as compared to my shoebox apartment) all to myself... the WHOLE time I was there, I comPLETEly forgot to check on my vegetable garden. Read: I have no idea if I'm growing a pumpkin that needs to be protected from ravaging racoons, or rabbits, or opossums... (which reminds me, I was in a museum in Sweden once, where opossums were considered a rare rodent creature in the creepy dark nighttime/underground section, whose main habitat is a small area located in and around northern Virginia).

I guess that's not entirely true, because I did spray it with fungus-killer last weekend. No new fruits then, so maybe there still aren't any. Finally saw the beautiful orange pumpkin flower when it was open. It's large, star-shaped, and about two shades lighter in color than the pumpkins themselves. My tomato plant, when I sprayed them all to kill the mold, was encroaching on my bell pepper plant, but hopefully hasn't overtaken it yet. Speaking of which, I'm sure they all need weeding, too. Bah.

Well, I did get back to my apartment last night to find all of my house plants thriving, a little bit taller and a little bit crookeder than they appeared when I left, which means they got enough sun and didn't miss being watered. So I won't complain about having a black thumb. Not yet, at any rate. But I won't claim it's green, either.

Yours truly,
a forgetful gardener