What is the opposite of a green thumb?

Keukenhoff 2004


What is the opposite of a green thumb? Do you think it is a black thumb? Well, whatever it is, I have it. I adore flowers and plants. I love it when I wake up and the first thing I see on the window sill is a nice arrangement of tulips, chrysanthemums, Jacaranda roses, lilies, Catlaya orchids, Freesias, gladiolus or some other flower that looked gorgeous at the florist. I don't draw my curtains, even in the winter, because I find the sight of the evergreen plants soothe me. I adore, adore, adore spring!

Unfortunately I sometimes think I am the grim reaper of the plant world. Every plant I have ever owned just seem to give up and die. I used to try and liven up my dreary digs with indoor plants bought from the local Kwik Save. Dead in a week. I persevered for a month but they just kept on dying. Then my duty free ciggies ran out and I could not waste cash on suicidal plants. I tried again when I started work. I figured cacti would be the way to go. Bought a nice arrangement during a holiday in Cameron Highlands and proudly set it on my desk. They died 2 weeks later. I heard the cleaner mumble "Cactus also can kill, how to have children".

My black thumb is renowned. A friend gave me a nice orchid as a birthday present a few years ago hoping to regenerate that green thumb she knew to be inside me. Deep inside. My orchid was confiscated as soon as stepped into my house. My Dad has it at his kebun somewhere. Mind you, I am pretty sure that I am not the only one with this handicap in the family. My dad "replants" his kebun every year, and I mean whole trees. He says he likes to try new varieties. We know his beloved plants have gone to that special corner in heaven reserved for victims of City boys who want to get back to their roots.

I have been buying cut flowers for yonks. But in the last few months, I have been trying out yet again to rediscover that elusive green thumb. So instead of stopping by the local florist when I do my weekly shop, I walk a bit further and visit the nursery. The first time I went in, I was left pretty much alone to look through the orchids. A family friend who lives in Den Haag has a gorgeous 3 acre garden, filled with trees, evergreen shrubs, and perennials. Her house is always filled with orchids. She told me that they do not last long but are pretty hardy. I gained new inspiration from her and bought myself an orchid. I figured they were low maintenance and as they did not last long, they would die an early natural death. My guilt would be appeased. A week later I was back at the nursery. And the week after that. I gained the attention of the owner and he asked me if I was building a collection. What a funny question I thought. No, I was not. I told him about my new resolution to nurture plants, instead of providing a hospice service for cut flowers. He asked me why I chose orchids. I told him they were pretty and they lasted a full week. He then told me, horror of horrors, that orchids last for at least a month. Sometimes longer. He gave me orchid rearing tutorial and sent me off with a nice Catlaya. I was at the nursery again the next week, but it was different. I knew then that my orchids were dying prematurely. I needed something more sturdy. As I walked in the fern section, could hear the plants screaming in horror, begging for mercy from the plant gods. But I was determined.

The last time I was at the nursery, the owner steered me to the Chrysanthemum section. It is at this moment dying in my room. I think it is time to admit to myself that there are some people who nurture, and others who provide nice vases and allow cut flowers with limited time to enjoy life, be loved and admired.