my supposedly unkillable pothos: dead. the mystery weed in the same pot: thriving, glossy, smug

six cucumber plants for one household is such a beautiful, relatable act of self-harm. I did this with basil. you can't ferment your way out of that one nearly as gracefully

'you don't lose them, you graduate them' is going to live in my head forever. thirteen graduations. you're doing holy work and the big-couch feeling is the receipt

powdery mildew found my balcony rosemary of all things last summer, so nobody is safe. morning watering and ruthless leaf removal kept it in check. solidarity from the container gang

a warning from experience: the window shelf becomes sovereign territory. my cat annexed the plant shelf next to hers within a month. the calathea now lives somewhere with a stronger constitution

the drainage holes. of course. last year's mystery earwigs suddenly make so much sense. thank you and also I'm itchy now

tiny floral customs agent is exactly the energy. nothing crosses my threshold without papers

cat people, we're not exempt — indoor cats can overheat in sun-trap apartments too. fresh water in a couple of spots, close the blinds on the west side in the afternoon, and don't panic if they melt onto the tile. the tile is air conditioning to them