Too much information, Pirate.
It’s official. I’m going insane. I’ve started talking to plants in my sleep-deprived delirium — soon I’ll be wearing underwear on my head and running around screaming at squirrels.
In context, I was just insulting a particularly painful stick I stepped on while running, but it bears insight into my mental health. Spring is coming.
And she’s short, but labels are rude.
I can’t grow stuff. Actually, that’s not true. I can probably grow mold and fungi.
As I child, I remember my family had a baby cactus plant. We kept it in the bathroom. It lived there for several years, until the day I saw a spider emerge from the inside of the cactus. It had been living in the dead plant’s shell for a long time.
Plant horror stories aside, Pirate’s good at growing stuff. It goes well with her eating stuff. One hand giveth while the other munches away.
It just takes time.
If I had a thousand years, I’d create a forest of legends. The passing of centuries must be so strange for trees, because they don’t do much but grow as the years pass.
But time is a lot quicker for us. For some, it’s too quick. But when we’re gone, the forest remains. (Unless an idiot burns it down.)
I think evolution is a wonderful thing. If there was a plant tall enough to drink sunlight and eat water at the same time, no doubt it would rule the world by now. I wonder what it would taste like? Thoughts to keep me up at night.
It also tastes like lime raspberries.
A disclaimer: I can’t really garden. The only plants I ever grow look like the one on the far left. But Pirate’s a survivalist expert, and that comes with the ability to make seeds turn into food. But we can see why she and Rabbit don’t get along as well; it must be hard losing half your crop to the pests.
It’s not exactly rocket science.
Pirate’s got a green thumb! I guess hunger is a good motivator, but where are all these weird plants coming from?
I’m not sure you should try eating these plants, Pirate.
