The Garden Help Desk You Didn’t Know You Needed
Because Apparently Staring at a Dying Tomato Plant Is Not a Diagnostic Method I have spent an embarrassing amount of my life pretending I know what plants want. I buy them with confidence. I carry them home like I have just adopted a quiet, photosynthetic roommate. I place them near a window, pour some water into the pot, and immediately begin imagining the lush botanical sanctuary my home will become. In this fantasy, every leaf is glossy, every herb is fragrant, and visitors stop in the doorway to ask whether I have always possessed such a rare and instinctive connection to the natural world. Then, three weeks later, I am standing over a basil plant that looks as if it has received terrible financial news. The leaves are curled. The soil is suspicious. A tiny insect I cannot identify has apparently established a thriving civilization under one stem. I search the internet and discover that the problem is too much water, too little water, excessive sunlight, inadequate sunlight, poor d...
