Alternate (and appropriate) titles of this post:
- The Chard Stands Alone
- Death and Destruction
- And then there were none
I went away for six days. And it turns out that those six days were the most horrible, brutal, hottest we've had all summer. I didn't check the weather report before I left and figured that since it had been raining some at night, my plants would be fine without me. Halfway through my trip I thought better of that and left my roommate a message asking him to please give my plants some water. Well, he knew there was a big planter of something out front, but missed the pots of lettuce, herbs, beets, and radishes outside of the back door. The back door that he uses at least twice a day. Yeah.
When I got home to sweltering PDX heat late on a Sunday night, I was greeted with the carnage. All my plants (except the parsley, strangely) had withered and died. They were limp and brown and sad, hanging over the side of their pots. I cried.
It was own fault really, for not thinking this out ahead of time. A smart gardener would have asked her female neighbor to look after her plants, or given her male roommate step by step instructions on exactly which plants to water and when. A smart gardener would not have left her little baby plants alone, parched, in the blazing heat for six days. A smart gardener I am not.