My black thumb

I am the not so proud owner of what is commonly referred to as... a black thumb. Yes I admit it is true that I kill plants! This is not because of spite, hatred, or uncaring feelings towards plants. Rather it is a natural inherent part of my DNA, or something.

One would think that I am probably a descendant of many generations of city dwellers - those who are far removed from the workings of the land in growing plants and gardening. However, that would not be true. My family on both sides go back centuries with farming roots. Even my parents were both raised on farms, and they were each quite skilled when it came to growing a garden. And of course I did my share of weeding and helping with the planting and gardening while growing up. But apparently it just didn't rub off the blackness of my thumb.

My beautiful garden rows of lovely red potato plants with leaves so green and lush - is now a mere collection of yellow leaves with brown spots and slowly dying plants. The three rows of corn I planted are doing slightly better than the potatoes. There are a few stalks which stand taller than me - but other stalks don't even reach my kneecap. My lovely black thumb has obviously reared it's ugly visage, and wrecked havoc upon these poor defenseless plants.

The only living, growing, thriving plants in my yard right now are weeds of course. I diligently dig, hoe, and spray weed killer everywhere. Yet these noxious things thrive in spite of (and rudely mock) my black thumb. But I know a path to revenge against the weeds. You see it is obvious that if I plant it.... it will die. Therefore all I need to do is harness the dark power of the black thumb and sew weed seeds throughout my yard. Then watch the power of the black thumb assert itself! Long live the black thumb!!