I am probably the least qualified person to answer your nonexistent gardening questions, but I’m literate and I’ve got a keyboard, so I can write about gardening!
When I said, “I am probably the least qualified person to answer your nonexistent gardening questions,” you probably didn’t wonder why I am probably the least qualified person to answer your nonexistent gardening questions, but I will answer the question you didn’t wonder about anyway after the colon:
I am probably the least qualified person to answer your nonexistent gardening questions because I am the worst gardener I know (then again, I don’t know that many gardeners. I don’t even know that many people to begin with…). I have had many pet plants (which I mentioned in my previous post, My Pet Cactus) and all of them (other than my cactus) have suffered the same morose fate: death (in which I had a hand).
My first pet plants (that I can remember, at least) were some tomato plants that I got for my fifth-grade science fair project (“for” meaning I used the tomato plant in the science fair project. I did not get a tomato plant as a present for my science fair project. That would be idiotic, as science fair projects are inanimate objects and can thus not feel emotions, including the happiness that makes giving gifts worthwhile for some). I forgot to water these tomato plants and they shriveled up and died from neglect.
My next plants were some Morning Glories that I kept in a little terra cotta pot and grew from a seed (I grew the tomatoes from a seed as well). But once they sprouted, I kept pulling off the leaves and they eventually died. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to pull off the leaves because I wanted my Morning Glories to flourish more than anything else, and pulling off the leaves seems very counterproductive.
After that, I made a lovely fairy garden with pretty light green plants. I watered it too much and it rotted from the inside out.