I wrote last month about the sickly state of my geranium. I’d almost given up hope that it would survive from the blight that killed its neighbour, the pepper plant.
But almost a month on, there’s reason for optimism. The cutting I took is growing – slowly, but definitely growing. It now has three leaves and is looking stronger.
It must be getting better because my tics have started teasing it again:
“Geranium, you’re shorter than Ronnie Corbett in the distance.”
“Little geranium, do you want a fairy costume?”
“Little geranium, grow up so you can have sex with an avocado.”
“Geranium, you rise like a phoenix from an ash tray.”
“Geranium, you’re very dirty for a tiny plant.”
I’ve got everything crossed that the tiny geranium will grow back into the big plant it once was.