My sweet peas are dying.
This is not an unusual occurance, as my previous posts may have indicated. I thought by planting them out in the garden I was saving them from myself, but alas, they are now no more than barely green, slightly shrivelled shadows of their former selves. I am also now the proud owner of two dead venus flytraps, which was probably a situation predetermined as soon as I got them to the till in B & Q. Ficus is doing good though, as are the other sweet peas that live in my window box.
Still, my lack of green fingers is painfully apparent. The packet of sunflower seeds that has yet to be opened shudders as I type, as the clever seeds realise what awaits them and try to escape. Run, little seeds, run!
Maybe I should just eat them and be done with the killing.