I used to have a brown thumb.
Let’s be honest, it was black. I killed everything...Spiderwort, Pothos, even Peace Lilies wern’t safe around me.
What made this funny was that I come from a long line of plant people. My parents had a nursery. My grandparents had a nursery. My cousin. My Aunts & Uncles. Yep—pretty much everyone I grew up with grew plants. But me, I just killed them. (This, by the way, is part of why I fell in love with flowers...once cut, they had a limited lifetime. Measured in days, my bad ju-ju wouldn’t have a chance to kick in.)
You know what changed? I realized that I could always buy a new plant when the old one died.
And just like that, I quit killing my plants!
You can order your very own plant HERE.