Freshman year of college, I decided to get a cactus. It was an impulse buy at the Saturday farmer’s market. As I carried it home, I started visualizing the little life form’s demise. I could barely take care of myself, how could I take care of a cactus? I named him Carl.

The following year, I picked up an agave plant from the university’s plant sale. The agave never got a proper name because I couldn’t decide on one, not because I killed it too soon. Do you think I’m a sick, neglectful bastard? I’m not. It’s dead now, but that’s neither here nor there.

Then, the following year. I got a cat because I realized that if I can take care of two living organisms that can’t do much for themselves, how hard could a cat be (hint: really not hard unless she’s a needy cuddler).

After that, Peace Corps happened and I learned how to take care of myself.

Now, I’m on my own and I have a large expanse of balcony that needs some greenery so I decided to take up gardening again. In addition to Carl, I picked up three basil plants, a chives plant, a parsley plant, a rosemary plant, a thyme plant, a peppermint plant and an oregano plant. Initially, these plants had a bit of a mistreatment early in their lives. I talk about it a bit in the post about the weekend of Terrible Customer Service. However, since then, they’re flourishing. I’ve never known myself capable of growing such luscious plants. The best part is that the fresh herbs make any meal taste a hundred times better than if I had used store-bought dry herbs.

All of it makes me wish I had a vast expanse of land (about an acre) that I could use for the sole purpose of planting vegetables, Ukrainian style.

Take a look at my balcony garden:

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