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Thursday, May 29, 2014 Gardening 101 “Gardening” can be intimidating. Regardless of where you are in the process, there is always room for improvement. The great thing about gardening is that you can make mistakes, learn from those mistakes, and still enjoy the process. It’s probably a fine time to emphasize that this is true of cultivating our own lives as well as cultivating plants and flowers. This might begin to read a bit cheesy but if you’ve ever been lost, you know what I mean. We have to keep tilling, seeding, fertilizing, mulching, weeding and pruning. Unless you have an exotic rose bush, this might seem easy to do as an experienced gardener of which I am not. I learned, as many gardeners do, through trial and error. Believe me; I have made my share of mistakes. Here are a few tips that I have found to be helpful. Take care of your investment—YOU! If you’re not in a good place, get out. And for goodness sake, find a good therapist. I can’t emphasize this enough. Don’t underestimate talk therapy. Rediscovering yourself takes time and a good therapist will only encourage you to be the best version of you. Just as plants need space to grow, so do you. Space can be physical (an apartment, a house, a room! Virginia Woolf wrote an entire essay on this. Sandra Cisneros wrote a beautiful poem “A House Of My Own”) or it can be symbolic space (a journal, a block of time to go for a walk, a therapist’s office!). As my life changed, I left a house and land to move into a small apartment. This is where I started gardening in pots. I knew nothing about gardening so the first plant I picked, I picked from what I affectionately call “the death and dying” section also known as the discount plants section. The plant I picked up was colorful but creepy. I learned it was a bromeliad, a tropical plant which I wasn’t actually aware of at the time. It turns out that bromeliads are “undemanding and easy to grow” a quick Google search tells me. I don’t recall searching for any care instructions at the time. I decided to wing it (the opposite of how I typically approach my life). I loved the bloom. What I didn’t realize is that bromeliadsbloom a single time… then they die. Great. Sigh. But wait! I did a bit of research and knew to look forward to “pups”, growing buds at the base of the leaves. These pups are ready to be separated when they are about half the size of the mother plant and should be removed by cutting with a sharp knife or clippers as close to the mother plant as possible. I had no idea that I would be performing surgery. Nevertheless, I ended up with three pups after the mother passed away. I would be lying if I wrote that this didn’t break my heart but with the pups came new flowers and new pups; and, all Goths know that Death is part of Life. Not all plants require the same amount of fertilizer or water. I learned that I’m a “slow processor” so when I am hurt or upset, it takes me quite a while to understand why. Pay attention to your climate. The USDA Hardiness Zone Map divides North America into 11 separate zones with each zone being 10°F warmer (or colder) than the adjacent zone. I require a great deal of indirect sunlight. I lived in Massachusetts for a while and could not hack it. It was overcast and dreary. My little Goth heart needs sunlight… just not direct sunlight. I always use a parasol when I go for walks which I enjoy doing in town to look at the various Victorian style homes and in my favorite garden cemetery, Hollywood Cemetery. As I mentioned before, know that sometimes it is trial and error. Posted by Goth Gardener at 7:23 PM

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 mo. ago CBenson1273 I Invited The Kids Who Were Bullying My Son To A Party I was sitting watching television when Joey came home. I greeted him like I always did. “Hello, Angel! How was your day?” But instead of his usual “Fine, Mom,” he ran past me and up to his room. I climbed the stairs to say hello. He sat on his bed, crying. I ran over to him. “What happened?” “Nothing,” he said, sniffling. “Come on, baby. Don’t you know you can tell me anything? Whatever it is, I’m on your side.” “It’s just… the kids at school. They’ve been picking on me, and today they pushed me down and called me a runt.” Joey had always been somewhat small for his age - it was a sore spot for him, especially without a father around. I’d hoped that in fifth grade things might be better. “What have I told you? You’re amazing, and if those kids can’t see it, they’re half-wits.” “Yeah, I guess,” he replied, but I could tell they really got to him. “Don’t worry, Angel. Mommy will take care of everything.” I met with the principal, but he said it was just boys being boys. The other mothers refused to believe me, hinting that Joey was making it up. I saw red. I wanted to make them pay. But helping Joey meant putting my selfishness aside and extending an olive branch. I called each of the mothers back, apologized for any misunderstanding, and invited the boys to a party to make amends. Eventually they agreed - I haven’t met the mother who’d turn down free babysitting. I bought cake and pizza and got the house ready. When the kids arrived, it was obvious they didn’t really want to be there, but the free food and games got their attention. I watched how they treated Joey - not a single person greeted him. I stopped the party and called for attention. “Excuse me, everyone. It’s come to my attention that many of you have been picking on my son in school. I know how kids can be, so what’s say we apologize and start fresh?” The kids looked at one another, then one by one began laughing. All the while, Joey sat there looking broken, and my heart broke for him. Then his sadness turned to anger. His eyes began to glow. The air darkened. Max, the ringleader, made a choking sound and reached for his throat. Then, out of nowhere, a plant stalk emerged from his mouth. It kept growing, bursting from his body at both ends until it lifted him into the air. The others began screaming and sprouting plants until the room was a macabre garden of children suspended in the air from stalks erupting from their bodies. Then everything stopped and Joey fell over, exhausted. I raced over and held him, feeling small bumps protruding from his back. “What… what happened?” he asked uncertainly. “Nothing, sweetheart. Everything is fine. I guess it’s time I tell you the truth about your father. His name was Oberon…”

✿ღ 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓜𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 ღ✿๑۩۩๑๑۩۩๑ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ❀~ LOVE~❀ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

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