It is a big deal when I buy plants because it is a known fact that hubby is the one with the green fingers, not me. Why… I don’t even venture into our garden to enjoy the greens and all, only he does that. I stay indoors to do my carvings. At most, I would venture out to the garden terrace and not beyond when I need to do some drilling or serious filing because I certainly can’t do this dusty and messy job inside.
Sometimes when hubby excitedly brings a potted plant to me, I become flabbergasted because I don’t know what I am supposed to look at or even compliment about. I don’t see anything special—at least to me—and as always, he has to point out specifically to me; that’s how useless I am when it comes to plants.
So it’s a big deal when I decided to pick up four little pots of greens when we were up North recently. I thought the petite leaves and succulents were oh-so-very cute and obviously appealed to me. But of course, the one taking care of them will be hubby and I know he will do a good job.
Angieneering 
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