With Great Responsibility Comes Tasty Foliage

I was on my way down the stairs in my building with Charley in tow for his habitual stroll when I was hailed by my downstairs neighbor. Being a gentlemanly sort, I sauntered over to see what was amiss.

She held a travel bag in one arm and, awkwardly cradled under the other, a piney, bushy looking houseplant, about three feet tall. "Is that rosemary?" I asked.

It was indeed! It seems that her first attempt at growing rosemary met with failure, as she dried out/killed the poor thing. I say "poor thing," but in all honesty dried/dead rosemary is a delight to at least three out of the five senses, so it's hard to get too teary-eyed about it. Her story was short and to the point: her sister had fallen through, and could I care for her rosemary plant for a week? Water it daily, watch for problems, etc.? Of course I can.

Meet Roland:

Roland marks my inauguration into plant-sitting; a heady responsibility, to be sure. On the plus side, I have been assured that I can take a snip or a pinch here or there for cooking purposes in return for my efforts. Fair deal, I say.

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Apparently, Liberals Are The Illuminati

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